


Part II: The SPARTAN Legion Chronicles

by WinterXAssassin



Series: From Team To Family [2]
Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Action/Adventure, All The Spartans Are Star-Hopping, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blue Team should take a leaf out of Noble Team's book, But he does not know how to Comfort very well, Character Death, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Epic Bromance, Epic Friendship, Family, Family Drama, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Flashbacks, Fred is So Done with John's Bullshit, Gen, Halo 5: Guardians, Halo: Reach, Headcanon, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Military, Not Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, PTSD RECOVERY, Post Halo 4, Post Spartan Ops, Post-Canon, Post-Fall of Reach, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Science Fiction, Spartans DO HAVE EMOTIONS, Team Bonding, Team Feels, Team as Family, also team bonding between IIIs and IVs, but a hecking ton of angst, but also canon compliant, but it's changed so it's not REALLY Halo 5: Guardians, everyone is fucking drowning in the angst now, if that makes any sense, im going to drown everyone in the angst, there will be so much angst, these poor Spartans Need A Break, they can't sit still for too long, this is how they vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-03-26 10:22:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13855806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterXAssassin/pseuds/WinterXAssassin
Summary: It's been a number of years since the fall of humanity's military stronghold, Reach. Noble Team are war-torn but light-hearted, and their bond is as strong as ever. Hopping across the galaxy as they take out the many factions of the Covenant, as well as rebel factions of humanity, they face more challenges than just the difficulty that is posed by Jul 'Mdama's faction known as theStorm Covenant. New threats will rise up... new Spartans will make their mark... the UNSC has a new flagship leading their fleet... is there any use for the Spartans of Noble Team and their outdated frigate?





	1. Here We Are...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnd finally, here is the next fic in the series _From Team To Family_. This time, the story will shift focus somewhat and include more characters, some of whom you know and love, and some of whom are OCs of my own creation. Once again, as with the previous story, this is _canon divergent_. Meaning the shit that goes down? Yeah, a lot of it didn't actually happen. I wasn't really impressed with how they handled everything post _Halo 4's_ Spartan Ops, and this is my attempt at doing it - and _Halo 5: Guardians_ \- justice. This is my own take on what the galaxy is like after Spartan Ops. It will be different. You don't have to like it, but _please_ , don't hate on me for changing up canon events. This is an Alternate Universe, a what-could-have-been.
> 
> And this work is pure fiction, written by moi.
> 
> (also, fic title is taken from a line of _Warriors_ by Imagine Dragons, a song I headcanon as being the theme for _all_ generations of Spartans)  
>  [p.s. this is sort of a filler chapter. the more interesting stuff will happen in the _next_ chapter, I swear]

Aboard  _The Athenian_ , in orbit above New Harmony, unknown system, May 11th, 2558

“It is _good_ to be back home.”

“You say that like we’ve been gone for more than a month.”

“Hey, what can I say? I missed the place.”

“Boys. _Enough_.” Artemis strode over to her bickering teammates, slapping Carter on the back of the shoulder before cuffing Jun on the back of the neck. “We get it, Jun, you missed being on New Harmony. And Carter, seriously, stop being an ass. It wasn’t like we just left _your_ home planet.”

The Commander rolled his eyes. “Ah, forget it. I’m going to get out of my gear and take a nap. That fight was _exhausting_.” He strode off, and Jun snorted quietly; Artemis shot the sniper a glare.

“Be nice. You’re all up in the sky, cushy in your Falcon, whilst the rest of us were fighting on the ground and organizing civilians.” she chided, folding her arms across her chest and staring out the window. “....But .... We made good progress. And... to be honest, it’s nice to have you back again.”

The Warrant Officer had been away from the rest of NOBLE for quite some time. He had ‘officially’ retired from active duty, and was currently holding the – supposedly _temporary_ – position of Chief of Staff of Spartan Operations. That meant he had to oversee the newest generation of Spartans – the S-IVs – and make sure their training was up to par, as well as recruit people for the program in the first place. It was time-consuming work that involved a _lot_ of paper as well as star-hopping, and the sniper had been busy with work for the past five months. Thus he had only _just_ returned to the team, and he hadn’t even had much of a chance to catch up, being thrown in battle practically the moment he had set foot on _The Athenian_.

That was right – the _Stalwart_ -class light frigate they had escaped Reach aboard was renamed _The Athenian_ , and was beginning to be outfitted for Spartans. She had also received better armaments, and was upgraded with better fusion reactors and a better slipspace drive. This work was being done at the request of the ship’s captain – at the time, Noble Team were away in the city of Tyumen, as they did not want the rest of the UNSC knowing they were alive and kicking. As they had vowed years earlier, they did not want to be under the jurisdiction of the UNSC or ONI or the likes of them... they were striking out on their own, and managing just fine. The crew of the former UNSC frigate were more than fine with having Spartans as their commanders anyway – after all, there was a lot more shore leave for them than there ordinarily would have been had _they_ been working directly for the UNSC, and most of their families were dead or out of contact anyway.

The Spartans were older, now, and more war-torn. But they were lighter in heart, less weary, and still as close-knit as ever. They looked after one another. Hung out together. Trained together. Lived and breathed and ate together. Criticized Jun’s cooking, or praised his baking. Scolded Emile whenever he got too rowdy. Calmed one another through nightmares. Their bond was one that had been forged in fire, and it was stronger than it had ever been since it had formed that fateful day of July 24th on the planet Reach.

“Of course you missed me, you shit,” Jun drew an arm around the Lieutenant and she let out a growling squeal before elbowing him in the ribs, darting off.

“I’ll be at the gym. See you later, dweeby man!” She flipped him the bird over her shoulder and laughed as the sniper scowled at her.

It _was_ good to have Jun back among their ranks. The team just never felt the same when they had to be apart from one another. In battle it suited them just fine, but when they were off-duty? Yeah, it sucked really badly.

* * *

Artemis hung upside down from a high bar, curling upwards before dropping straight down again. She watched keenly as a handful of Army Troopers entered _The Athenian’s_ gym – or, rather, one of _two_ gyms – chatting amongst themselves. She recognized one of the females in particular – an auburn-haired, green-eyed peppy woman whom Noble had saved during yesterday’s fighting. Some... Sergeant Curtis, if she recalled correctly. Bright spark, good in combat, but somewhat _dumb_ in regards to reacting to the way the Covenant now fought. She fought them like one would the Covenant during its _old_ days, but the Storm Covenant were a new thing and they were different. That was what had caused her to get into trouble and thus Noble having to save her ass.

The Spartan flicked her gaze over to where Carter was doing some arm curls with the third-heaviest weight he could find – which thankfully, Jun had been able to pilfer some of the Spartan-strength equipment from the _Infinity_ , the UNSC’s flagship. Sergeant Curtis broke away from her group and made her way over to the Commander, and Artemis’ lips downturned into a suspicious sneer when she noticed Curtis’ approximate position in relation to the Spartan.

 _Oh, you are_ way _too close for comfort, bitch._

She couldn’t really make out what the Trooper was saying – nor what Carter was saying in response – because of the earbuds in her ears filtering music to her, but judging by Curtis’ body language, it was clear that she was _interested_ in whatever the Spartan had to say. And that she – _oh no_. _Oh, don’t you fucking_ dare _. Why the hell are you grabbing his arm like that?_

Artemis dropped to the ground neatly, a growl rumbling in her chest as she marched towards the two soldiers, all but tearing Curtis away from the Spartan and sending the Trooper sprawling to the deck with a vicious backhand. “Watch your _proximity_ to my teammate, soldier, and keep your hands to yourself.” she hissed, low and dangerous. She felt Carter’s shock from where the Spartan stood behind her, but he didn’t do anything to stop her – seemed like he was too surprised at the contact from the Trooper to react.

Said Trooper stared up at the Lieutenant in a mixture of awe and fear, wiping her bloodied nose and bobbing her head in a nod. “Y-Yes ma’am. Sorry... i-it won’t happen again.” She scrambled to her feet and scurried back to where her fellow Troopers were waiting. A couple of them laughed at her, one shook his head in sympathy, and another one just rolled her eyes. The group of soldiers left the gym and tended to avoid it after that incident, using the other gym instead. They didn’t want to run into the Spartans again – which suited Artemis just fine, because that particular group of Army Troopers tended to be on the irritating and hostile side.

* * *

“So, what’s new?” Jorge’s voice rumbled from seemingly out of nowhere, causing Jun to recoil in surprise, spinning around to face his teammate. His expression was a mixture of shock and annoyance; he shook his head and sighed when the heavy weapon specialist chuckled.

“Latest batch of S-IVs just finished their training. They show a lot more promise than the last lot. The _Infinity’s_ repairs from the attack at Oth Lodon are almost complete. Fireteam Majestic are making a lot of headway against the Storm, and.... I think that’s about it, really.” The sniper shrugged, turning away to look through shelves of books lined up neatly against one wall of the rec room.

“Nothing about you-know-who?”

The Warrant Officer glanced sharply at his fellow, and his mouth twisted into a grim smirk. “Well... nothing that _I_ could find, but I asked Roland and he showed me some records that stated yes, he had been aboard the _Infinity_ before, and less than a year ago. We were a little slow and he’s elsewhere now, moving across the galaxy with the rest of Blue Team.”

Jorge rubbed his jawline in thought. “Hm. Interesting...”


	2. I'll Be Right There For You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yeah okay I lied, this is another set-up/filler chapter. But hey, you can't have a plot without the set-up! So enjoy Palmer having issues about the Spartan-IVs, and the Master Chief Having An Emotions. And see if you can't guess just _who_ Spartan Harkness might be - I'm not giving hints unless you show you're on the right track!
> 
> (chapter title taken from _Be Right There_ by Diplo  & Sleepy Tom)

Aboard UNSC _Infinity_ , in orbit above Earth, Sol System, May 12th, 2558

“I don’t like it.” Spartan Commander Palmer stared at her datapad, a scowl on her pretty features. Whatever that Chief of Staff of Spartan Operations had been up to the last time he was aboard the _Infinity_ , wasn’t good. Why had the man been accessing – or trying to access – records of Blue Team? For starters, Blue Team were Spartan-IIs, and the Chief of Staff was a Spartan-III. And for seconds, as far as she was aware, they’d never even worked together. What was going on?

Approaching footsteps startled the S-IV out of her thoughts, and she glanced up to see Captain Lasky striding towards her. She tucked the datapad into a pocket of her cargoes, and folded her arms over her chest, cocking her head to one side.

“Don’t like what?” the man queried, coming to stop beside her.

Palmer shook her head, and worked on tying her auburn hair into a bun to hide the faint trembling in her fingers. “The idea that there could be a spy within the UNSC. It still doesn’t sit right with me, Tom. And the fact that the lead you had vanished into thin air doesn’t help either.”

“I don’t like it either. But there’s not much we can do, and there’s more important things we need to focus on right now anyway.” the Captain nodded to the two Fireteams of Spartan-IVs in the Wargames Arena below them. “What do you think of the latest batch?”

Palmer was glad of the shift in topic. She finished tying her hair and folded her arms across her chest, following one S-IV clad in WARMASTER armour with a sniper rifle slung across his back. She watched as the Spartan clambered up a pile of rocks, only to get shot in the head from the opposing team’s sniper, who was wearing the WARRIOR variant of GEN2. “Some of them are shaping up to be better and will join the ranks of these guys here,” for the Spartans in the Arena were some of the _previous_ class of S-IVs, rather than the fresh-out-of-training class that was being discussed, “The rest of them will be shipped off elsewhere.” Only the best of the best of the Spartan-IVs remained aboard the _Infinity_. The UNSC’s flagship _needed_ the best soldiers to be sent into battle. And damn if Spartan Commander Palmer was going to make sure the _Infinity_ got those soldiers.

“You’ve got a good eye for picking standout Spartans,” Lasky commented, and Palmer glanced at him sideways, snorting out her amusement – although it sounded more like _distaste_ than humour.

“You say that, and yet I count three Spartans who have turned on us. Michael Crespo, Rudolf Schein, and Vladimir Scruggs. All of them defected to the enemy and cost us good soldiers. And that was _on me_.” Palmer forced herself to relax, keeping her arms folded across her chest rather than clenching her fists like she wanted to. “I _chose them_ as outstanding Spartans, and yet they rebelled.”

The Captain frowned out of concern, before his countenance shifted to a gentle one, and he reached up to awkwardly pat the Spartan Commander on the shoulder. “That wasn’t your fault, Sarah. How could you foresee Spartans turning against us? That would require precognition, and everyone knows that it doesn’t exist. You did the best you could. The UNSC’s been pretty pleased with your choices so far, and the _Infinity_ has the best contingent of Spartans, all hand-picked by you. Yes, it was awful that those three deserted. But don’t you think you’d be just as likely to blame Spartan Jun, or Rear Admiral Musa, since they were the ones who vetted those guys for the SPARTAN-IV program in the first place? It _wasn’t your fault_.”

Well, since he put it that way....

Palmer opened her mouth to respond, but she was interrupted from her thoughts for the second time that day by another set of footsteps. This time, the person sounded like they were wearing armour; she turned to see a NOBLE-clad IV approaching her, helmet tucked under his arm. He was also part of the last class of IVs... Spartan Harkness if she recalled correctly. A good leader and sharpshooter. Bit of a brainy guy.

“Yes, Spartan?” Palmer queried.

“Excuse me if I sound a bit upfront, ma’am, but I didn’t like Whiteman and Pereo’s performances in our last five Wargames sessions. And they’re not interacting well with Spartan Perez and myself. I’d like to request to have them pulled, and placed on another team, and to have two Spartans replacing them.” Harkness stated calmly, though Sarah noted the hint of apprehension in his electric blue eyes.

The Spartan Commander placed her hands on her hips, pursing her lips in thought as she mulled over Whiteman and Pereo’s records in her mind. Indeed, she recounted that they were always bickering with the other half of that team, weren’t listening to orders, were reckless against the other Spartans in Wargames sessions... They needed to be split up and assigned to different Fireteams. She trusted Harkness’ judgement; he was a very strong tactical thinker, and if he’d realized that his team were not performing as they should be, he meant it. She gave a nod, letting her arms drop to her sides. “Alright. And since you came and told me face-to-face right away rather than waiting to tell me in a briefing, or telling me via a report, I’ll let you have pick of the latest wave of Spartans to add to your Fireteam.”

“Thankyou ma’am.” Harkness was evidently relieved. He gave Palmer a curt salute, and turned smartly on his heel and trotted off when she dismissed him with a nod.

“There’s Exhibit A on you making good choices on Spartans, Sarah.” Lasky nodded at the retreating figure of Spartan Harkness. “He’s a good man, and so is his teammate Spartan Perez. Can’t say much for Spartans Pereo and Whiteman since Harkness just stated they’ve been acting up, but still. Acting up is better than defecting.”

“I guess you’re right.” Palmer grudgingly admitted, her gaze shifting to watch the remnants of the two Fireteams continue to duke it out in the Wargames Arena. “I just hope that I can continue to pick more outstanding Spartans in the future... ones that _aren’t_ likely to defect...”

* * *

“I haven’t seen Chief press himself like this since we were in boot camp,” Fred muttered quietly, pulling himself up again using the chin-up bar, before dropping down. “It’s not right. I don’t like it.”

“He’s fine, Fred.” Kelly cut in curtly, lifting some heavy weights high above her head. Linda sat cross-legged on the floor nearby, spotting her. “This is just how he copes. You know this; we all do. We should be focusing on the upcoming mission.”

Blue Team were currently in one of the _Infinity’s_ many Spartan-durable gyms, working out before they had to gear up for a mission. They were discussing the mental state of their leader, who had been pressing himself – and all of them as a result – harder than he ever had. It had been fight after fight after fight against the Storm Covenant, against Insurrectionists, against the Prometheans. And there had been little breaks in between. _Something_ was eating at John, that much was obvious. But he evidently wasn’t going to open up about it, and the team were growing concerned.

Said team leader was currently pushing himself on the treadmill, pushing himself too much. This was supposed to be an _easy_ workout session; a mere warmup before they entered combat in just under two hours. And yet John was not taking it easy. He hadn’t been since he had reunited with the rest of Blue Team. Hell, he hadn’t been taking it easy since he had returned to the UNSC’s fold last year after what had gone down on Requiem. Fleet Admiral Hood had requested the Spartan take a break; either John had forgotten, or had turned a deaf ear, because he was doing anything _but_.

Fred had seen enough. He dropped from the bar and marched over to the treadmills, yanking his teammate _off_ and powering the treadmill down at the same time. He huffed out a sigh and rather unceremoniously let go of his hold on John, the other Spartan dropping to a heap in the ground; the Lieutenant dropped beside his friend, lifted him, and pulled him into a roughshod hug. Apparently it surprised the Master Chief, because he recoiled in surprise before bursting into tears.

Oh, yeah, this was going to be a _long_ day.


	3. Star-hopping Is NOT A Vacation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: And heeeeere, we have Blue Team deciding to take a vay-cay (and star-hopping as a result), Noble Team deciding to head to Emile's home planet of Eridanus II, and the two teams of Spartans bump into one another at Luxor Spaceport! Shenanigans ensue! What will these Spartans get up to _next!_

“I don’t think we should go on this mission.” John uttered quietly. He had done some thinking after he’d broken down, and he’d come to the decision that it _really_ wasn’t wise to go out onto the battlefield whilst his mind wasn’t wholly there. And Blue Team would never enter combat without him there with them; they had adopted this motive ever since they’d been reunited a few months back. They were more than a team – they were a family, and they looked after one another.

“What?” Kelly looked confused, towelling her hair after her shower. “What made you change your mind all of a sudden?”

The other Spartan threw her a sidelong glance, shaking his head. “I can’t keep fighting. Not when my head isn’t in the game. After Cortana died... I just...” He blew out a heavy breath. “I’m not doing so well. Maybe it’s time I have a break. And I’ve been pushing you guys too hard as well. It isn’t right.”

“I respect your decision, Chief.” Linda stated solemnly, giving her fellow a solid clasp on the shoulder. “It’s a good line of thinking. I’m going to take a break from fighting as well. Maybe I’ll trip to see what happened to Verent and find out if people are trying to resettle.”

Fred rubbed his jawline in thought. “I reckon I’ll book a spaceflight to Ballast and check out my old haunts. See if I can’t remember anything.”

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt for me to find out what happened to Imber.” Kelly mused quietly, her voice muffled because of the towel over her head. “I mean, I defended her when the Covenant invaded, but I never _did_ see if she was successfully glassed or not. We had to evac before that.”

John leaned back on his bed, folding his hands over his stomach. “So we all go to see our home planets as a team, and then what? Continue to star-hop? Just.... check things out and do things we’ve always wanted to do but never gotten the chance to?” It sounded like a good idea to him. Relaxing and seeing the sights as a family. Bonding. It was something he had never thought he would get the chance to do, but something he’d always _wanted_ to do. So now he was leaping at the opportunity to spend time with his kin off-duty. Lord Hood had strongly suggested he take a break, and he was going to do just that.

“Well, _I_ don’t see why not.” Fred remarked, “And we can see what the Gammas and Veta Lopis are up to while we’re at it. If ONI lets us, that is.”

Kelly snorted derisively and towel-whipped her friend in the rear; the Lieutenant yelped and batted it back at her. “You _always_ want to see what those kids are up to.”

“In my defence, they’re good soldiers. I mean.... they took to us like ducklings that follow anything that is vaguely mother-like... And Veta Lopis at least knows how to treat us Spartans like we’re _human beings_ rather than scary soldiers in suits of armour... or robots in suits of armour.” Fred bit back.

“Speaking of Veta Lopis... being a detective... we could _use_ someone with her skills.” John sat up suddenly, and the others glanced towards him in confusion. “I get the feeling that someone’s been poking about in our records. I don’t know why but... It feels like there’s footprints of someone who’s been accessing records before trying to cover up their tracks. And I want to know _why_. Roland isn’t fessing up...”

Linda cocked her head to one side. “Elaborate on what you mean by ‘accessing our records’.”

“Somebody has been looking at what we’ve been up to – me in particular – since being aboard the _Infinity_ , and after the first Requiem Campaign. I want to know _why_.” The Chief tapped his fingers on a muscular arm, frowning. It didn’t add up to him. Why would anyone have interest in their records, and focus on _him_ in particular? Were they trying to look for him? Was it a subtle hint that they were trying to contact him? Or was it something much worse? He wanted to know.

“And you said that Roland isn’t telling you anything. It sounds like he’s been _helping_ whoever’s trying to access your records.” Fred rubbed his jawline in thought. “Only person I could even have the _vaguest_ idea of who would do such a thing is another Spartan. An S-II or an S-III.” It didn’t make sense to him, either. Why would the AI _not_ divulge on information like that? Why would he _help_ someone access the Spartans’ records of recent activities?

“That’s something we can look into after we’re done star-hopping. Only priorities right now are rest and relaxation.” John answered.

* * *

Aboard _The Athenian_ , outskirts of Monastir, New Harmony, unknown system, May 12th, 2558

“Ya know, I just realized something,” Emile remarked, dangling upside down over the back of the couch. It didn’t matter that he was probably too big for the piece of furniture in the first place, nor the fact that he would likely tip it over and knock everyone else who was sitting on it off. He was having too much fun for that.

“And what would that be?” Artemis was curled up on said couch with her feet tucked under her, reading files on her datapad. If he had something to say, he should just spit it out; otherwise her attention would drift back to what she was looking at. She couldn’t stand it when people couldn’t get to the point – and she had that issue, sure, but speaking wasn’t always her strong suit. Even holding conversations with her kin was something she struggled with.

The assault specialist righted himself – surprising, but he had enough respect for his peers to actually _make eye contact_ when holding mildly serious conversations – and gave a shrug. “Well, we’ve been to everyone’s home planets.” At a _look_ from Jorge, he corrected himself. “Okay, we’ve been to New Harmony and Biko, and we can all unanimously agree we’re _never_ going back to Reach, at least not for a long time. But we haven’t been to my home planet of Eridanus II. I miss home, ya know? I’d like to see what happened since I was last there when I was ... aw, eight years old, I think.”

“You make a fair point. And I _did_ see an ad for spaceflights to Eridanus II...somewhere.” Carter remarked quietly, doing arm curls with a dumbbell in one corner of the room.

Artemis glanced up at that, and gave the Commander a smirk, arching her eyebrow. “Oh, so you actually paid attention to something that wasn’t to do with combat, did you?”

He snorted at that, flicking his eyes towards the ceiling. “Like _you_ pay attention to anything.”

“I’m lazy and fuck you.” She chucked her datapad at his head and he yelped as it connected with the side of his skull; he caught the object which caused him to drop the dumbbell... right onto his foot. He cursed loudly and shot her a withering glare; the redhead just howled with laughter, falling all over Emile who was in hysterics and had wound up on the floor.

“What did I miss?” Kat wandered into the rec room, brushing out her still-damp hair that now fell in loose waves about her shoulders. She glanced about from Spartan to Spartan in confusion, wondering why Emile and Artemis were losing it on the floor and Carter was holding his foot, wincing and glaring at the same time.

Jorge shrugged, wholly absorbed in some science-fiction novel that he’d pilfered from Jun – something the sniper was _still_ sore about – and answered, “Hell if I know. I’m not paying attention to anything except whether or not Queen Mara T’kasi will-”

The cryptanalyst held up a hand and shook her head to cut him off, before shooting Carter a questioning glance. “Commander? What’s going on?”

The Spartan huffed out a breath and massaged his foot, taking a seat on the floor. “Emile was stating about how he wanted to go back to his home planet, I stated that I had seen an ad for spaceflights there, and Artemis snarked at me before chucking her datapad at my head. Of course I caught the thing so it didn’t break and I dropped the dumbbell I was doing arm curls with onto my foot.”

Kat hid a smirk with her hand and scooped up the pad, handing it back to Artemis, before shaking her head again, though this time in sympathy. “You lot are all a bunch of children, I swear.”

Carter muttered something about icing his foot and walking out of the room sulkily; the lone wolf continued chortling before it died down and she wiped her eyes, getting to her feet and helping Emile up. “You missed it, Kat. The look on his face was _priceless_.”

“I can only imagine,” the cryptanalyst remarked wryly, tapping her kin on the wrist with her hairbrush, “You _do_ need to burn off your energy. C’mon, let’s go to the gym; do a workout.”

“Sure, I don’t see why not.” Artemis bumped shoulders with her Beta fellow and laughed when Kat nudged her back; it sound wound with them charging shoulder-to-shoulder down the hallway and throughout the frigate until they reached the gym.

* * *

Carter couldn’t figure it out.

Sure, he was used to his team’s antics. They’d been doing it for _years_ now. But for some reason, he got the feeling that something had changed. He didn’t know what it was, and he was going to work it out. It didn’t help, though, that he couldn’t get the Lieutenant’s laughter out of his head. _Why_ was it ringing in his mind? It was... strangely musical, and familiar, and yet it had never affected him like _this_ before.

Maybe he’d have to listen to some music to drown out the sound. _That_ was always a good idea. Artemis had often suggested –

... _why_ was his mind drifting to her again?

And the look in her eyes when she –

“ _Arrrgh_!” He ground his teeth in frustration and shoulder-checked Jun by mistake, sending the sniper spinning towards the wall nearby; lucky, the man checked himself in time, and turned to the Commander, eyebrows arched in bewilderment.

“Are you alright?” he inquired, looking like he might step forward and shake the older Spartan by the shoulders to grab his attention.

“Honestly, Jun? I don’t even know anymore. I think I must be having a bad day because I can’t concentrate on _anything_ right now.” It was only half of the truth; he _couldn’t_ concentrate, but he just wasn’t stating _why_. He rubbed his jawline in thought and heaved a full-body sigh. “Sorry for nearly smashing you into the wall back there.”

“Eh, no harm done.” the Slav gave a shrug. “So, bad day huh?” He wrapped an arm around the other Spartan’s shoulders. “Let me tell you about a little something called _baking_...”

* * *

Luxor Spaceport, Eridanus II, Eridanus System, December 17th, 2558

Eridanus II was the last on the list of homeworlds to visit. Blue Team had spent a week in Imber, then five days in Verent; following that, they spent three weeks in Ballast, all deciding unanimously that Fred’s homeworld was a really nice place to be and that they’d have to go again sometime.

Now they were landing on John’s home planet, at the Spaceport in Luxor, which was another town not too far from the place where John had grown up, a location named Elysium City.

The Spartans stepped out of the craft, blinking in the sunlight, and immediately deferred to John on what to do, since he had been born here – although, his memories of the place were faded. It had been a _long_ time since any of the Spartans had been home, and all their childhood memories were buried or long forgotten because of everything they’d been through since then.

For a few moments, it seemed like the Chief was frozen, lost in his thoughts, until Fred interrupted with a rather cheerful, “Let’s hoof it to Elysium City, shall we?” and John shook his head and then nodded, striding forwards and through the straggling crowd of travellers ahead of them. Most people, upon realizing that there were some very _big_ , powerful-looking soldier types among them, parted out of the way, looking at Blue Team with a mixture of awe, respect, and slight trepidation.

“Nice atmosphere,” Kelly remarked, breaking the silence again. They’d all been like this when visiting their own homeworlds; it only made sense that John was the same. Awkward, feeling out of place. Lost and more than mildly confused.

“It’s artificial.” John answered, although his gaze was focused on someone – or rather, a _group_ of someone’s – that seemed to stick out like a sore thumb in the crowd ahead. “You guys seeing what I am? There’s other Spartans here, and they look like they’re off-duty as well.”

“What, you want to go over and say hi?” Fred teased, but his voice trailed off at the end, feeling something _familiar_ about one member of the other group in particular. “Tell me I’m not seeing another Spartan-II. I’m... not, right? That’s just a really tall III or IV?”

“No.... I mean yes, you are. That’s one of _our_ kind.” John sounded puzzled. He stared as the towering figure made their way through the crowd with ease, the smaller – but still large by regular human standards – figures trotting after him, though one was spinning in circles as he walked, seemingly taking in the sights as though he, like John, had grown up here.

“Well what are we waiting for?” Kelly glanced at her teammates and darted through the crowd without waiting for them to respond. John shook himself out of his daze for the second time and followed her; Fred and Linda fell into step a few beats later. They were going to tail this Spartan, who was one of their own kind...hopefully, too, they could stop and talk to him. John was _sure_ this one had died, and yet here they were ... but he had to confirm to be sure. He had an inkling of a feeling that this was Jorge-052, someone who had died during the Fall of Reach all the way back in ’52. The profile certainly matched, as did the way he moved among the civilians, but John wanted to be sure before making any stupid mistakes.

* * *

“Someone’s following us.” Artemis observed between her teeth, and she heard Jun’s intake of breath from somewhere behind her, followed by Emile’s snide remark of _yeah, no shit_. She felt more than saw Jorge beside her glancing over his shoulder, and she stopped short when he let out a choked noise of recognition. “You alright, big man?” she asked gently, and the rest of the team stopped as well, questioning.

“That’s-” he began, and then stopped, head swinging from side to side in disbelief. “That’s _Blue Team_. My generation of fellows. But why - .... I thought - .... It doesn’t make _sense_.”

“It doesn’t have to make sense.” There it was – a gravelly rumble, with a note of warmth to it. A voice that Chief Warrant Officer Jorge-052 hadn’t heard in _so long_. And there were pale, muscular figures standing before them. He might not have been on the same team as them during training, nor ever placed on the same roster as them as an adult, but dammit, they were _his kin_.

“It just _is_.” The voice spoke again, and Jorge found himself face to face with Master Chief Petty Officer John-117. The leader of all Spartans. _The_ Spartan; _the_ Demon that the Covenant feared. And he was someone that Jorge had never seen for many, _many_ years.

“It’s good to see you again, Chief. You look well. As do the rest of you.” Jorge stated warmly, snapping out of his momentary daze and sticking out his hand for his fellows to shake.

John eyed the hand, and a corner of his mouth twisted up into a wry smirk. “I thought we’d be long past that by now.” He ignored Fred’s hiss of _so he learned something after all_ , and pulled the bigger Spartan in for a slightly rough hug, clapping the great bear of a man on the back. “Good to see you again too,” he returned as he stepped back. “I take it this is your team?”

“Technically, they’re his,” Jorge cocked his head in Carter’s general direction, “But yes. Noble Team. I’m the only one of our number; the rest are IIIs. Good men and women; they’re like family, to me.”

“You were all on Reach, when it fell, weren’t you?” Kelly piped up.

“Yes.” Artemis rejoined. “Jorge and I fought the hardest to save her, Reach being our shared home planet and all. Watched my own home city get glassed around me, and it was my first glassing, too. Wasn’t fun. Hadn’t even been back for years... the damn Covies ruined it all before I could properly recall how much of a crown jewel she was and how much she’d changed since I’d last seen her.”

“New Alexandria, correct?” Fred estimated, and the lone wolf gave him a nod. “She _was_ a beautiful city. Can’t say I saw much of her, but I’d heard UNSC soldiers mentioning her a lot. It was unfortunate that Reach fell. And not just because she was so strategically important.”

The planet had been “home” to all the Spartan-IIs, as well as being Jorge and Artemis’ shared planet of origin. And she had been a beautiful planet, too. Some of her sunsets had rivalled those of Sundown’s.  And her mountains, well. They were something else entirely.

“Speakin’ of home planets, this rock we’re standin’ on is _my_ home planet, so how’s about I show y’all what’s what? See what I can remember and all that.” Emile spoke up, previously atypically subdued since they’d set foot in Luxor’s Spaceport.

Carter, who suddenly found that he was the highest ranked out of everyone gathered, despite the fact that half of their number were more combat-experienced Spartan-IIs, gave a shrug of his shoulders at his teammate’s request. “I don’t see why not. You know what you’re doing more than the rest of us – though I can’t speak for Blue Team, of course.”

“Your memories are most likely fresher than mine, Spartan.” John conceded. “By all means, go ahead and show us what you know.”


	4. The Longness Of Semper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Here, we have an emotional chapter! These poor Spartans are so tired and they just need to learn how to heal now that they're on a break.
> 
> (chapter title was taken from _Contact_ by Trocadero, from RvB Season 12 OST)

Aboard _The Athenian_ , outskirts of Luxor, Eridanus II, Eridanus System, December 20th, 2558

Stumbling into the hallway out of her quarters after yet another nightmare, Artemis rubbed at her eyes, scraping her shoulder against the wall before righting herself. She stifled a yawn and tried not to stagger into some dark object suddenly looming up before her, only when what could only be a large pair of _hands_ clamping down onto her shoulders, did she stop in surprise. “....What....” She squinted in the dark, wishing her sleep-addled brain and her eyes would catch up with one another so that she could work out who it was before her.

“Hey, careful there,” a masculine voice scolded, and there was a note of laughter in his voice. “What are you doing up at this hour anyway?”

 _Oh, that’s .... Frederic-104. Fred. Right_.

“I was about to as the same of _you_ , Lieutenant,” she returned, but she wasn’t angry with him, more amused than anything. “Not usual for a Spartan to be prowling the halls of this old girl at night. Not even since Noble Team’s occupied her.”

“Actually, I was just going for a walk before bed. Helps me sleep. And the reason why I was up this late in the first place was because I was filing paperwork for Blue Team. Since I’m the ranking officer of the team and all...” Fred admitted with a light chuckle, and in the faint light she just made out one hand going up to rub the back of his neck, before dropping back down onto her shoulder. “Are you all right, Lieutenant?” There was something like a huff of laughter; it was atypical for him to address someone who held the same rank as him... well, _she_ was a full Lieutenant, where as he was only a Junior Grade, but regardless, it was strange. “What’s the reason as _your_ being awake at this hour?”

Artemis glanced down, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. She figured that Blue Team had as much issues as NOBLE did, but still, that didn’t particularly mean that she was _open_ to talking about her problems with them. They were somewhat more.... well it wasn’t just the fact that they were Spartan-IIs, although that _did_ factor into it... they didn’t deal with their emotions the same way that NOBLE had learned to over the years. She had seen it in the way they acted, even among their peers. They were... not closed off, per se, but they weren’t exactly the most _open_ people, especially not when it came to discussing what they were thinking and feeling.

“Just... nightmares. It’s never pretty.” she admitted at last, her gaze drifting back up to look into the somewhat ghostly visage of Fred’s features. Probably didn’t help that his skin was rather pale, from being in his armour for years on end.

He cocked his head, then nodded. “It’s never easy, huh? Tell me... is... there anything I can do to help?”

 _So, it seemed like they were taking cues from their younger counterparts just from the two days they’d been with NOBLE. Or was it pure coincidence, and they had already_ begun _to get a grasp on their emotions and how to deal with them?_ She wasn’t sure, and honestly, she didn’t really want to know right now. She wanted to go back to bed, but at the same time, she didn’t want to rouse one of her team by asking them to fall asleep beside her, or crawling into one of their cots and disturbing their sleep that way. The younger Spartan was silent for a time, debating.

 _Should I ask Fred to sleep beside me or ask to sleep beside him? Or should I not bother and just go back to bed and deal with it like the damn adult that I am?_ Sleep was _so_ tempting right now, but the nightmare had left her pretty shaken... She didn’t want to be alone.

 _Damn it_.

“I... uh... I don’t know if this is a weird request or not, but uh.... do – is it alright if .... you’d maybe share my cot with me? It helps me sleep better, but I don’t want to disturb my team, y’know? It’s ... it’s a habit we’ve all gotten used to but since everyone’s tired as of late, I didn’t want to wake them up and...” Yeah, she was rambling. _Double damn it_.

“It’s okay,” he cut her off, chuckling softly, “You’re not the only one who gets nightmares. Come on.” He drew an arm around her shoulders and guided her gently back to her quarters, recalling by memory the path which he had seen her take earlier that evening to arrive at the correct room. “Besides, it’s no trouble to me. We Spartan-IIs used to be quite cuddly, back in the day. John more than anyone else, but... it changed for us, over time.”

“I can only imagine.” Artemis murmured, listening to the door sliding shut before stifling another yawn behind her hand. She suppressed a whine as the warmth of Fred’s flank pressed against hers left her, and she heard more than felt the older Spartan scrambling onto the double cot in the room. _How_ she’d managed to procure a double instead of a single was anybody’s guess, but when it came down to cuddling with the fiery redhead, it made it all the more worth it, and nobody complained. When all was still, she padded over to the bed and all but flopped onto Fred’s larger frame, finding him to be smaller in stature than Jorge – unsurprising, considering that the Hungarian was a great bear of a man – before nuzzling her face into his chest unashamed, and humming in content when the warmth of one long arm came to drape over her back, keeping her in place.

“Thanks, Lieutenant.”

“Call me Fred. And it’s alright.” the man returned, sounding already half asleep himself. The Spartan-to-Spartan warmth did that. Artemis knew _that_ all too well. It was a delicious sensation; a treasured thing among Noble Team. She was secretly glad to share it with Blue Team as well.

“Then call me Artemis. Goodnight, Fred.” Oh, yeah, she was already on the way to la la land.

“Goodnight, Artemis.”

* * *

“Commander?” Kat tapped the other Spartan on the cheek, accidentally smearing grease onto his face. She wasn’t sure the man would even notice; he’d spaced out _again_. He was _supposed_ to be helping her repair the Falcon they’d busted on their last mission, but so far, all he’d done was pass her the wrong tools, and space out going on five times now. Something was _definitely_ up, and the cryptanalyst was determined to find out _what_. It wasn’t like him to be this... well, vacant. He was always attentive, alert, keen on helping his team out wherever they needed it. Now, though, he was just out of it; had been for the past week. She was sure it was getting worse, too.

Carter blinked a few times and shook his head. “...Huh? Sorry, I was ....”

“Thinking? Yeah, no kidding. I asked you seven times if you wanted to call it quits and grab a pizza. But you zoned out. Again. This is the _fifth time_ you’ve done that. Not to mention but all you’ve done to help is hand me the wrong tools. Is something going on, Carter? Talk to me.” Kat set down her spanner and faced him, setting her hands on his face so that he would meet her gaze.

“I -... I actually don’t know. I can’t seem to get out of my damn mind, lately, and I don’t know why.” He huffed frustration and twisted his head out of her grip, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “I’m gonna take a shower. I - ....” Another sigh. “I don’t know what’s going on with me, Kat. I wish I knew. Just that everything feels _wrong_ , somehow. O-Or something. I keep getting nightmares and they’re all along the same lines. Falling into flames, fire... burning. And I don’t just think it’s because of the Pelican... _Those_ dreams always came with the sensation of me freefalling. No, these are something else entirely. It’s getting harder to sleep, to concentrate on _anything_ at all...”

The New Harmonian frowned, lips pursed, and she gave a sigh of her own. She couldn’t make heads or tails of what he was telling her. It was like his nightmares were all associated with the one thing... and he said he couldn’t concentrate? That wasn’t like cool, charismatic, level-headed Carter _at all_. “Go take your shower then. I’ll finish the Falcon on my own.” She patted his shoulder sympathetically and turned away, picking up the spanner again and tightening the last screw.

She heard her fellow Spartan talking quietly to himself as he wandered away, and she shook her head in disbelief. _This wasn’t good_.

* * *

Artemis wasn’t sure what had woken her. One moment, she was dozing lightly, attempting to drift off to sleep after a late night that was caused by her being rather attracted to the latest chapter of her new favourite novel; the next, she was quite certain that she was no longer alone in her quarters. She sat up, her eyes piercing the darkness, and uttered a confused noise from the back of her throat. Okay, yeah, she was a little on the sleepy side for speech, but if whoever was there announced their presence, that might change. Depending on what they wanted and all.

She felt the _whoof_ of breath nearby, and someone seated themselves next to her. She blinked, and when her eyes sprung open again after that brief period, she noted that her room was flooded with light, and that it was Carter seated beside her. He looked... mournful, and were there tears in his electric blue eyes? Undoubtedly he’d had a nightmare. “Are you okay?” she solicited quietly.

There wasn’t an answer in the form of speech; rather, he just leaned close, pressed his face into the crook of her neck, and began to cry silently, his shoulders trembling. Now this wasn’t unusual – they had often cried due to nightmares; the whole team did – but something about it this time just felt... _different_ , somehow. Artemis couldn’t put her finger on it, but it just felt off, to her. She didn’t think anything of it – that was for later – but wrapped an arm around him and gently stroked the nape of his neck and back of his skull, wishing for the umpteenth time that she could shelter all of her family from the storm that was the vast, daunting galaxy that their lives were caught up in.

As she held him close and continued to soothe him with her touch, she began to hum softly a song he’d stated once was something from his childhood, a song sung to him long ago by his mother whenever he’d had nightmares as a kid. Gradually, both tears and trembling subsided, though Carter still was... mournful, in some quiet way, and she continued to hold him long after she had finished humming. Without moving her arm away from him, she carefully reached up and flicked off the light before laying back, gently tugging him close, allowing his face still to be nuzzled into the crook of her neck. She closed her eyes and let out a quiet huff of a sigh, and she felt him finally relax.

She didn’t ask him what had happened, didn’t question him on if he was alright; just silently held him as he drifted off to sleep, before she followed him to the land of Nod.

* * *

“I wanna get a dog,” Emile stated out of the blue, stretching in the warm Luxor sunshine and rolling onto his back to get more rays onto his skin. He – along with Blue and Noble Teams – was stretched out in front of _The Athenian_ , ignoring the shadows the frigate cast in favour of soaking up the rays. It was a pleasant day and the Spartans were making the most of it by lazing around outdoors rather than cooping themselves up in the ship’s interior, which was only lit by fluorescence and the odd stream of light that came in from the windows.

“ _Why_ do you want to get a dog, of all animals?” Jun questioned, wrinkling his nose at the prospect. He’d never particularly been a dog person, having been bitten by one when he was a kid, and he had always preferred cats, anyway.

“You can wait until we get home to Monastir.” Carter mumbled, his voice muffled by the grass. He’d always liked grass; never knew why, unless it was to do with the fact that Biko was mostly a desert-like planet, and therefore, big, lush, expanses of grass like the one they were all lazing on, were only a child’s dream.

“I dunno. I just want a dog. My big brother had one, growin’ up; it’d follow us home from school every day, protectin’ us. It was a good dog. Shame the Covies took it, along with my brother and my parents.”

“You just _had_ to turn the conversation dark, didn’t you?” Jorge lamented.

“Hey, my past is as dark as my skin – probably darker, though not as dark as Six’s “dripping with black ink” tale.” Emile snorted.

Artemis made a noise of offense mixed with derision and whacked him with her elbow, straight in the gut. “You are _such_ an ass.”

The Warrant Officer whooshed quietly and curled up in a ball, trying his best not to groan. The rest of Noble ignored him; Fred, however, propped himself up on one elbow, curious. “Are you lot _always_ like this when off-duty?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“You bet your ass we are.” Artemis responded, stretching out before finding a more comfortable position in which to read her novel. “Emile’s the sassy, troublemaking little fuck, but he has a lot of respect. Jun is a chatterbox – surprising, I know – who knows how to bake a mean brownie. Kat likes to be mischievous by hacking everything, but she has a sisterly nature. Carter watches over us all like a caring guardian, having been the one to form Noble’s ranks. And Jorge? Well, you know him. Big man with a heart of gold. As for myself, well, I’m a mystery and an enigma but let’s just say I’ve got a _lot_ of love to give, especially for my teammates.”

“That’s....certainly something.” the older Spartan offered, laying back down again and linking his hands across his abdomen. “Huh. And you guys have all been together since... when?”

“July 24th, 2552. That was the date I met these guys after being assigned to them a week or so prior. I saved everyone’s asses on Reach – well, save for Jorge, who survived by... I dunno, space magic – and we’ve been together ever since. We’re a family, with a bond forged by fire, strengthened in the storm... all that sentimental shit.” Normally Artemis _was_ a sentimental person, but right now, she was too lazy to give a damn. She just wanted to soak up the sunshine and relax.

John sat up suddenly, as though a thought had struck him. “We know where everyone else comes from, but... who are your parents? Where’s _your_ home planet?”

“That’s classified, and my home planet was glassed to hell and back,” the Lieutenant answered wryly, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth, “Hell, you know where I come from. I stated it when we first ran into you guys. Unless you weren’t paying attention.”

There was silence, and then, “Right. New Alexandria. Why did ONI take you to Onyx, draft you into the SPARTAN-III program?”

“I was orphaned, and that’s classified.” Her smirk only widened. She might get around to telling Blue Team of her origins. Eventually. Preferably before Emile let part of it slip and they put two and two together.

“No wonder your assault specialist calls you a ... what was it, “a walking piece of Spook work”?”

“ _A walking piece of black ink_ , actually,” the Spartan in question corrected, “But yeah, that fits well enough. Hell, we all thought she was that until Kat hacked her files.”

This time, it was the cryptanalyst who elbowed Emile – only it was with her prosthetic arm, and he wound up wheezing on the ground in fetal position. “ _Not_ your story to tell,” she chastised.

“F-uck....you...” Emile rasped, wrapping his arms around his abdomen. “’S’not funny, Jun, stop laughin’ at me.”


	5. Homeward Bound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Angst. I love all the angst so here, have an angsting Noble Six with Noble One being emotional support. And other shit happens. Suspicious shit. But it's less important

Aboard _The Athenian_ , somewhere above Reach, Epsilon Eridani system, February 11th, 2559

Artemis gave a jerk, startled out of prepping a Pelican to take down to Reach’s surface, when she heard the sound of footsteps, getting closer. She turned, dropping her DMR with a clatter, and shook her head in disbelief when she saw Carter approaching. “Far out, Commander, you scared me! Don’t just walk up like that.”

“You know, normally you wouldn’t scare like that unless you’re up to something you shouldn’t be.” he returned, arching an eyebrow and gesturing to the crates, shut or half-open, and guns lying around here and there. “What are you doing? We’re about to jump out-system and head back to New Harmony. We only stopped here briefly.”

The redhead sighed and glanced down at her feet, rubbing the back of her neck. “Actually, I... asked the captain if he could keep us here for a few days. It’s... Well, you know it’s my birthday coming up in a few days and I wanted to go home. So I’m taking a Pelican down to Reach to just... have a look, I guess. I know there won’t be much left but... home calls, y’know? And who am I to deny that to myself? I ... I physically _can’t_.”

The other Spartan crossed his arms over his chest and gave a sigh. “You shouldn’t really be going down there on your own. And I don’t mean that you’re not capable of taking care of yourself or anything, but if you get into a spot of trouble – because who knows _what’s_ down there – then you’ll have no way of contacting us up here for help. Satellites being dead and all.”

Artemis gave a shrug and continued loading up magazines, storing her DMR on a rack on the wall of the Pelican. “What, and who do you think would come with me to a dead planet? There’s no point anyone accompanying me because they’d be bored out of their mind.” At least, that’s what _she_ figured, at any rate. And sure, she could take Jorge with her – in fact, she’d asked him, but he said that he was “waiting for the right time”. Whatever _that_ meant. She _did_ want to take someone with her, but... she just didn’t think anyone would be interested. Plus, she didn’t want to trigger anyone’s memories. They’d all had a time of it down there back in ’52, and she didn’t want to bring any of that up. It was the right thing to do, going by herself.

She continued to pack, _feeling_ the silence linger in the air between them, despite the fact that she was making a lot of noise with metal clinking against metal and plastic and whatnot. She glanced over her shoulder and pursed her lips, studying her teammate, before continuing to pack her things. She didn’t understand why he seemed so... _concerned_ all of a sudden, but then, maybe that was just his caring nature shining through. He just wanted his teammate to come back safe.

She cocked her head, pausing to listen to the sound of shoe scraping against metal, and she glanced over her shoulder again. “I can hear you thinking, Carter,” she teased, “Come on, out with it.”

The Spartan in question licked his lips, ducked his head, and let out a sigh. “Well, I figured maybe I could come with you. If you’re not bothered by it, that is.”

Artemis shrugged, and turned away a third time. “Up to you. But I won’t say I didn’t warn you if you get bored. It won’t be pretty down there, trust me.” She finished packing the last case, which was full of food – because one never knew when they were going down to a heavily glassed planet – and straightened up, rubbing the back of her neck and stifling a yawn.

“I’m not bothered by that.” she heard him answer, and she arched an eyebrow, brushing past him.

“You’d be surprised.”

* * *

Aboard UNSC _Infinity_ , in orbit above Forerunner Shield World Requiem, Epoloch system, February 11th, 2559

“Sarah, what do you know about what’s been going on with the Prometheans?” Lasky glanced towards Roland, and the AI saluted before his avatar winked out. The Captain shifted his gaze upwards to the Spartan Commander, and he raised a brow.

“No new developments, aside from the fact that they, along with the local Storm Covies, have been getting excited. About _what_ , the eggheads can’t say for sure, but they’re convinced it’s not good.” Palmer leaned her hip against the holotable and crossed her arms over her chest, shaking her head. The Prometheans were more trouble than they were worth, and the Storm Covenant were bloody determined little bastards. They wanted their claws on Requiem, and the UNSC was doing their best to prevent that. Even if they’d lost a decent amount of good men and women in the process – it was sacrifice for the greater good of humanity.

She opened her mouth to say something, but her attention turned to the holotable when a screen snapped to life, and Spartan Harkness’ helmeted face appeared. “Captain Lasky... Commander Palmer.... sorry to interrupt, but something’s come up.” He sounded breathless, like he’d just been in the middle of a firefight, or he’d been running.

Palmer inclined her head in Lasky’s direction, and he gave a go-ahead nod.

“We’ve located a signal which is coming from a _Halcyon_ -class cruiser, Sir. She’s registered as the _Dawn Under Heaven_ – that’s the _Pillar of Autumn’s_ sister ship – but she’s going by _The Atlanta_. It’s not a distress signal... I think they were trying to contact us.” the S-IV explained, his head turning away from the screen to speak to one of the other Spartans on his team, before looking back to the camera. “What do you suggest we do?”

Lasky mulled it over. It was strange. A UNSC cruiser – one of few remaining _Halcyons_ – and she was going by a different name? And she _wasn’t_ asking for help? Something didn’t sit right about it. And yet... He sighed, and articulated a response. “If you can get one of the techs to upload the COM frequency she’s using, we’ll try to get in touch with her crew. Stay down there until we’ve secured a connection – if we can – and then head back here at your earliest convenience.”

“Understood Sir.” Spartan Harkness gave a nod, and the screen flickered out of existence as he cut the feed.

The Captain pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, turning to look at Palmer, who was standing there, stoic and patient, arms crossed over her chest. “Why do I get the feeling that we’re in for more than we bargained for?” he lamented to her.

“We’ll find out soon enough. Don’t stress yourself over it, Tom.” The Spartan Commander laid a hand on his shoulder, decided against squeezing it, and gave him a half-smirk before turning smartly on her heel to leave the bridge.

* * *

Flying over the ruins of New Alexandria, Eposz, Reach, Epsilon Eridani system, February 12th, 2559

“I can’t believe...” Artemis murmured, staring almost vacantly out of the Pelican’s windshield as she steered the craft through the skies above her home city. “I know it was bad when we were evacuating but... seeing the aftermath of it all...” She shook her head. “It takes my breath away.”

She noticed more than felt a hand placed on her shoulder, and glanced up into the Commander’s face, seeing the sympathy in his electric blue eyes. “It hurts to look at,” she admitted quietly.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “It’s gotta suck, huh?”

A short, somewhat bitter laugh. “Understatement of the year, but sure, I guess you could say that. See if you can find me a place to set this thing down. I’ll look as well. I need to see up close. And there’s shit I need to grab.”

Carter’s eyebrows furrowed in bewilderment. “There’s _nothing left_. What are you going to grab...?”

Artemis smirked up at him, swinging her head from side to side, chortling. “There’s such thing as _bunkers_. I came across one and stocked it with some stuff, over the years. Each time I escaped from ONI, I’d book it to Reach, and stock more things. Except it made it easier for them to find me... but it was worth it. I wanted to have enough stuff hidden away for when I _did_ flee from them for good.” It had never happened, not until after Reach had fallen, and she had long-forgotten her stash. She was too busy dealing with all her problems – until now. _Now_ , she could head down to New Alexandria – or what was left of the city – dig through the glass....shit...whatever it was called... and find her belongings.

Apparently, the Commander was still confused as to _how_ she had managed to store items in a bunker below the streets of New Alexandria, because his expression didn’t change. But he didn’t continue to question her about it. Just shrugged and peered out the windscreen, looking for the best spot to land. There was lechatelierite covering every inch of surface they could see, and most of it _wasn’t_ flat – which meant it wasn’t very good for landing on. Eventually, though, Carter pointed out a good area to set the dropship down, and Artemis tapped the controls in accordance to his directions, steering the Pelican with more care, so that she didn’t land on the rougher areas that surrounded the one flat spot.

“Let’s see if I can recall where the bunker is.” the Lieutenant mused quietly, putting her helmet on and walking down the ramp once it lowered. She sensed Carter close behind her, and turned slightly to give him a thumbs up before jogging with care through what seemed to be a straight line of glass – this was perhaps where a road had once lain, and that was the way the lechatelierite had settled.

Nothing looked familiar. She glanced around as she dropped to a walk, scanning everything. She had once known the streets of New Alexandria like the back of her hand. Hell, even when she had been here when the Covenant invaded, she could remember everything so well, despite the fact that she hadn’t actually been there since she was four years old. Now, though? Now, it was foreign, and hostile, and not-same. And it _hurt_. There was an ache in her chest; hollow, throbbing. She released a sharp hiss through clenched teeth, and shook her head. She didn’t know where to go. Couldn’t recall where the bunker was. The landscape had changed _so much_...

Artemis let out a _noise_ and darted forwards when she spotted a lone tower, standing tall and proud. The only one there, out of what had once been a large, proud city. And she _knew this one_.

Carter felt cut to the quick, the sound that his teammate had let out resonating through him. He didn’t understand what this building meant. It was one lone apartment block, the only one standing... Artemis had recognized it, and had _reacted_. He jogged after her, puzzled. “What is this place?” he queried, breaking the eerie silence. There had been no wind. Even the _air itself_ was dead. His voice didn’t vibrate like it normally would have – the words just dropped, like stones sinking into the water. _Creepy_.

He watched as she darted inside the building, followed her, and stared as she took off her helmet. Then, finally, she gave an answer. “Home.” It was barely audible, but he _felt_ the weight of her words; he felt the emotions behind them.

“What do you mean?” He cocked his head at her, taking his own helmet off and tucking it under his arm.

Again, there was no response; Artemis was on the move, heading up a flight of stairs, two at a time. She squeezed into a doorway carefully, ducking her head, and stopped, staring. “...Where I grew up. All the way until my parents...” She let out a shaky breath and shook her head, moving through the apartment. In its day, it would have been a decent size. But now, she was much bigger than she used to be, and in her gear, too. It was a lot more difficult to get around. She squeezed through another doorway, and wound up in a child’s bedroom – _her_ room. She dropped to her knees and broke down, silently, head hanging low. After nearly twenty-one years of being away, she was finally _home_.

Carter sensed the raw, emotional pain that she was going through. None of them had been able to visit their old houses save for Kat, and she hadn’t reacted like _this_. He dropped to a crouch beside her and pulled her close, feeling her shaking even _through_ her armour. She must have been trembling pretty hard, then, for him to be able to feel it. He drew her as close as was physically possible and just _held her_ , silent, an anchor through a storm of emotions. One hand idly stroked the top of her head, and he felt her leaning into the touch – a good sign. At least she hadn’t dissociated – just broken down.

It carried on this way for a solid half hour or so, before Artemis shifted in his arms and pressed her cheek against his. She was still trembling – he could tell by the way her breath fluttered against his neck – but she was quiet, now, tears no longer falling down her face, sobs no longer robbing her of her voice. Still, his hand carded through her hair, and she leaned into him, quiet, mournful. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, and she shook her head against him. He could tell her eyes had closed by the feel of her lashes against his face, and he sensed her relaxing.

“It’s okay.” Her voice was cracked, hoarse; she sounded _tired_. No, not tired – more like _drained_ emotionally. “I just needed to get that out. Been a long time since I’ve cried that much.” She laughed, then, but the sound was just... empty. No longer full of life; no longer musical.

“I understand. Come on. We should get going. We can find the stash later. Let’s just get back to the Pelican and grab a bite to eat.” His voice was gentle, and she responded to it, getting to her feet and pulling her up with him.

“...Thankyou.” She stared into his eyes, just briefly, and pressed her lips to his forehead as a show of affection. Then, she turned away, and doffed her helmet, looking about the room one last time and grabbing _something_ off the bed before leaving the room.

Carter gazed after her, befuddled, before shaking his head to clear it, and putting his own helmet on and following her. _What was that all about?_ he wondered silently. He shook his head again and trotted outside, wondering just what would happen next. 


	6. Quae est infernum hic geritur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I wanted to write more, but this chapter already had 4,290 words, which is _far_ longer than any of my other chapters so far! Thus, I leave you with this...
> 
> (also, chapter title loosely translates to "what the hell is going on here" in Latin. when i say loosely, i mean because google translate isn't 100% accurate and i don't know Latin)

Somewhere beyond SWORD Base, Eposz, Reach, Epsilon Eridani system, February 13th, 2559

“You’re seeing what I’m seeing... right?” Artemis questioned, laying prone and sighting down the scope of her SRS99C-S2 sniper rifle. “Tell me I’m not just seeing things. Tell me this isn’t some ex-Covenant faction, crawling all over my home planet, when they don’t fucking have the right to be!” Her voice steadily hardened, and grew in volume. When Carter shot her a warning look – one she could tell even _through_ his gold visor – she shrunk back sheepishly. “Sorry. Just kinda pissed.”

“I know.” His voice was calm; steadying for her fraying nerves. “And you’re definitely not seeing things. Can’t say for sure just _who_ they are though, because they’re not Storm, whoever they are. Their equipment is all... different.”

All chunky-looking, silver and red and _lethal_ , rather than all the sleek, chitinous materials that was the Storm Covenant’s trademark. This was something else. These guys seemed... more aggressive, in their movements. More angry. It wasn’t good, whatever was going on. _Why_ they were poking around the remains of SWORD Base, was unclear, but their intentions were just plain _wrong_.

“Yeah...” Artemis breathed. “Why the hell are they poking around SWORD, anyway? There’s nothing left after it was blown to hell and back. Nothing that’d be worth their interest – oh, fuck.”

Another sidelong glance, this one filled with concern. “What is it?”

“Carter, what if they’re uncovering that ancient alien vessel that was buried under the ice shelf? I mean... look at all those Scarab-type things. Scarabs are part of the Covenant excavation vehicle category.” She grabbed at his arm, despite the armour, and gestured wildly, frantic. “I mean... _look_. That vessel, whatever happened to it... it looked like it had been there for _years_ , and it looked relatively intact. Tell me I’m crazy all you want, but what if it’s in one piece, and they _know_ that, and they’re digging it up to try and power it up to use it for their fleet? I mean, you saw the size of that thing, right? Stretching further than the eye could see. The probability of its size alone had me wondering if it was bigger than a _CSO_. And that’s the biggest-known Covenant vessel.”

There was a pause, and then, “No. I think you might be onto something.”

A chill ran down the Lieutenant’s spine, and she suppressed a shudder, closing her eyes briefly. She rose, slowly, locking her sniper rifle back into place on her back, and turned to glance down at the Commander. “Well then,” she exhaled, pressed her lips into a line of grim determination. “Let’s head back and tell the others what we’ve found. Tell them to brace themselves.”

He rose, too, head cocked quizzically. “What for?”

A two-word answer: “For war.”

* * *

Aboard _The Athenian_ , outskirts of Monastir, New Harmony, unknown system, February 17th, 2559

For the time being, the importance of telling the other Spartans about what she’d seen on Reach was at the back of Artemis’ mind. Today she was focused on relaxing and having some time to herself. Well, technically she’d _always_ been able to have time to herself, but... today was an exception. Because today, was the day of her twenty-sixth birthday. A minor celebration, but it was one that Noble Team still made note to remember. All of their birthdays were of _some_ importance; it helped them bond, and helped them feel a little more... normal.

Oddly enough, Carter had also kept mum about it, but then, he’d been oddly distracted for the past few weeks. She wouldn’t put it past him that he’d all but _forgotten_ what he’d seen. She’d have to interrogate him later, regardless; his distractedness was becoming a problem.

 _That_ , however, was currently the last thing on her mind. First was breakfast, and coffee, maybe a nice hot shower... curl up with her latest novel in a sunny nook – which she was more than halfway through – and _read_. Zone out from the goings-on around her, and focus on being peaceful. Tomorrow, she could think about war. Today, however, was one day out of a whole... three hundred-something – varied depending on what planet they were on – in which she could just _forget_ everything important.

She didn’t have to panic, or get worried, or anything of the like. All she had to do was –

 _Bark_.

That was... unusual. For a moment, the Spartan pondered why there was a _dog_ aboard the frigate, before shrugging and chalking it up to belonging to one of the UNSC soldiers aboard the ship.

_BARK!_

...Or maybe not. It sounded too close for comfort. The particular section of hallway in which her quarters was located, also housed the quarters belonging to the rest of Noble Team, plus Blue Team. There were spare quarters beyond that, and even _further_ away were quarters belonging to UNSC soldiers. Nobody passed through this sector save for the Spartans.

Hurriedly she pulled on her favourite cargo pants, and chucked on a light grey top, before darting out into the hallway.

...Only to freeze.

There, a puppy, with light blue eyes framed in a rather elegant-looking – well, for a dog, anyway – face, was staring up at her. The puppy’s ears flopped every which way – almost adorable, really. The coat colour was a soft, somewhat mottled grey, with a white blotch on the snout, and a white, vaguely upside-down axe-shaped splotch on the chest.

The puppy barked again, and it snuffed at her feet, tail wagging.

“You look like a wolf,” Artemis said to it, crouching down and scooping it up carefully. “Hey little fella.” The puppy wriggled and licked her cheek in response, causing her to laugh and push its head away. “Stop that, it tickles.”

This was too strange. A puppy, sitting outside her quarters, barking? That _had_ to be a coincidence. Right? And yet... The Spartan frowned, gently tugging at the teal-coloured bow around the pup’s neck, until she found a tag, where the bow was tied on. In small, neat handwriting, it read:  _for Artemis_.

“That’s _not_ an accident. You were put there deliberately. But I don’t recognize the handwriting.” she mused. She’d had not much chance to look over her team’s handwriting, especially since more often than not, they wrote things on a datapad, and therefore used the default fonts.

“What’s not an accident?” Emile’s eyebrows were drawn together in the manner that stated he was confused. He checked to make sure his door had slid shut before striding across the hallway to her. “What’ve you got there?”

Artemis could have slapped him for being an idiot, but she knew he was only messing with her. He _must_ have been in on this. There was a gleam in his green eyes that suggested he knew something she didn’t, and that he was keeping it from her. With great care, she set the puppy on the ground, eyeing it for a moment to make sure it didn’t wander off, before stepping forward to wrap the assault specialist in an embrace. The scent of gunpowder and rust that was so familiar to him clung to her nostrils, and she sighed and pressed her forehead against his chest.

“Okay, okay, I get that you’re happy kid.” Emile chuckled and patted her on the back, his arms coming around her to return the gesture.

“Thankyou,” her voice was muffled by the material of his black t-shirt.

“Sure, although it wasn’t my idea.”

Artemis pulled away just enough to look him in the eye. “Then _whose_ idea was it to get me a puppy for my birthday? Because I have to go and hug _them_ , too.” She’d just hugged Emile because she felt like it, and because he was the first person that she’d come across this morning.

The assault specialist must have seen something in her own eyes, something that meant she was planning to all but _squish_ the one who’d decided to give her a puppy, because he paused. They all knew that when she was feeling particularly emotional in a positive way, her hugs could be somewhat... tight. “...Uh. That’d be the Commander.”

“Uh-huh. And where is he as of now?” She stepped away from him, cocking her head. If he wasn’t going to tell her, she’d have to beat – nicely, of course – the information out of him.

Emile shrugged. Apparently he _wasn’t_ going to be a stubborn as a mule today. “Hell if I know. You’d have to run laps of the frigate before you’d manage to find him though.”

She was going to do exactly that. She pressed two fingers to his cheek in a gesture of affection, and then pointed at the pup on the floor. “Take care of Rookie for me. I’m gonna go thank the idiot before he disappears and I waste my day looking for him.” She darted off, her speed telling in that moment, as she was gone before Emile even had the chance to ask what kind of a name was Rookie.

He shrugged, bent down, and scooped the puppy into his arms. “Rookie, huh? Well, how about you and I go for a little walk? It’s nice weather this time of year outside. We can get you exercise...” He wandered down the hallway, talking to Rookie and stroking his ears.

* * *

John staggered back a step, as if he’d been slapped. “ _What_?” Surprise flickered across his face, and his eyebrows furrowed into a confused frown.

“I said-” Artemis opened her mouth to speak, but the Spartan-II cut her off midsentence with a shake of his head, and she closed her mouth again.

“That’s not-… How-? Why-?” He frowned more heavily, head swinging from side to side again. This didn’t make any sense. Why would the Office of Naval Intelligence want to clone him? Sure, the wanting to replicate him in case he died or went rouge made sense, but why not just train someone to be like him? Cloning him was a horrific thing to do moral-wise, surely. Who would be so…so _heartless_ as to do such a thing?

He suddenly felt lightheaded with the revelation, and so caught off-guard it actually made him weak at the knees. He seated himself on the grass, hand coming up to rub at his temple. This went over his head. He wasn’t stupid - not by far - but this…this was just beyond his level of understanding.

He could feel the younger Spartan’s gaze on him, and if he flicked his eyes upwards, he saw that her head was tilted in puzzlement, almost like a puppy. Laughable, if not given the situation, and the concern he saw on her features.

“Are you alright?” she questioned gently, plopping onto the ground in front of him.

John scrubbed a hand over his face, huffed a noise that might have been laughter - albeit with traces of bitterness - and lifted his shoulders in a faint shrug. “I’m just…processing this. And tired, I guess.” he mumbled. “I want to go home. Back to Reach. But I know that’s not possible. It hurts, I’ll admit. I feel…I feel lost. I have Blue Team, and…and I have Noble Team too, I suppose, but….I just feel lost.”

“You’re not the only one.” Artemis gently touched his shoulder, before shifting to sit beside him instead of facing him. “You’re not alone there. The amount of times I’ve wanted to go back to Reach…or Onyx, although less so than Reach. I was in New Alexandria as it was glassed around me. Almost lost Kat if it weren’t for my quick thinking. It was…hell, to watch my home burn around me. But after awhile, I got over it, because I learned that home is wherever NOBLE is. Whether it be on a frigate in space, on the surface of New Harmony, or on the battlefield…wherever NOBLE is, I’m home. Because they’re my heart, and….home is where the heart is. Never thought I’d be agreein’ with civvies, but…it’s true.”

Her gaze drifted to the other Spartans not far beyond them, interacting with one another happily. Her eyes tracked a tennis ball that Emile tossed for Rookie, who barked and ran after it. She saw Jun and Linda quietly comparing notes on how to be a better marksman. Fred and Carter were bickering over which DMR was the superior - the earlier M392 model, or the later M395 model. There were Kat, Jorge, and Kelly, all working on making burgers for the teams – together. Everyone was together, and everyone happy.

“You know, when I found out who I really was, at first I was upset, because I didn’t believe I was human – or that I even deserved to be. And then I was angry, because I didn’t want to spend my life living in your shadow; in the shade of your greatness. Later still, I gave all of that up. I learned that I was a hero in my own right. And that although I could never be as good as you…well…I figured that who better to be my role model than my own big brother? I hoped some day that I could meet you, and… I guess I got lucky, because here we are.”

John looked at her, then, really looked at her, and he saw that she was serene. And truly happy. He decided then and there that he wanted to be like that…he wanted his younger sister to be his role model, just as he was hers. Because who said he couldn’t? He made his own damn decisions, thankyou _very_ much.

And then he made the decision to wrap his arm around the younger Spartan’s shoulders, gently pulling her to his side. “Then I will choose you as my role model,” he stated quietly, “Who better to aspire to be than your own flesh and blood? As you said.”

“That’s a ….sound decision.” Artemis stifled a yawn and rested her head on a broad shoulder, a sigh slipping past her lips. “And y’know what?”

“What?”

“I couldn’t ask for a better big brother than you, John.”

That thought warmed the Spartan’s heart, and his lips curved into a faint smile. “I couldn’t ask for a better younger sister, kid,” he answered fondly.

* * *

Aboard UNSC _Infinity_ , in orbit above Forerunner Shield World Requiem, Epoloch system, February 22nd, 2559

“Slipspace rupture detected, eleven hundred kilometres off the _Hyperion’s_ aft.” Roland announced, his avatar winking into view a few centimetre’s above the holotable. “Captain. They’re registered as the _Stalwart Dawn_ , a frigate not seen or heard of since Reach.”

Something cold ran down Lasky’s spine, and he looked towards the AI. “You’re certain?” He wanted to be sure. He felt unease, deep down. _Two_ UNSC ships, gone for years on end, suddenly reappearing in space above Requiem? Something was going on. Currently, the other vessel – _The Atlanta_ – hung in geosync orbit in full view of the _Infinity_. Her crew had made contact with the Spartans on the ground once, and had gone silent ever since. And now there was another ship.

Roland nodded. “Yes Sir. They’re not hailing anyone, and get this – they’re moving towards the surface. Commander Pescoe thought they were gonna swing into geosync orbit like the _Dawn Under Heaven_ , but the frigate’s vector is taking them straight to the surface. All efforts to hail the _Stalwart Dawn’s_ captain have been ignored.”

Lasky rubbed his jawline, his gaze drifting to the viewport, staring at the steely grey _Halcyon_ cruiser. This wasn’t sitting right with him. Were they survivors of long ago space battles? It seemed unlikely. From what he could tell, the _Dawn Under Heaven_ was in good shape. Her hull had clearly been repainted from the original matte black, and there was a white slash on her starboard flank as well. As he watched, the _Stalwart Dawn_ streamed into view, obscuring his vision of the cruiser. The frigate, too, had a white slash of paint on her starboard flank, although she didn’t look to be painted differently to her original colour. And the frigate looked to be in tiptop shape, just like the cruiser.

Something fishy was _definitely_ going on.

* * *

A Pelican swooped low over the battlefield.

The Spartan-IVs that were currently locked in a stalemate with the Storm Covenant and the Promethean constructs of Requiem _stared_ in disbelief, momentarily abandoning their planning for the next move of the battle. First strange thing was the arrival of the _Halcyon_ -class cruiser. And now, just arriving, was a _Stalwart_ -class frigate, and it was sending a dropship towards the surface.

“What the hell?” Palmer muttered, shaking her head in disbelief. Unease sat in her gut, and settled there. Something didn’t feel right about this.

“Ma’am? That’s not one of ours, is it?” Spartan Harkness questioned, resting the butt off his SRS99-S5 on his shoulder, barrel pointing high into the sky behind his head.

“I don’t think so.” Spartan Grant answered, before Palmer could get a word in edgewise. Her M395 rested by her feet, and her PATHFINDER helmet was tucked under her arm. “Captain Lasky would have notified us of reinforcements.”

“No _way_ ,” Palmer heard Spartan Thorne breathing in excitement. She turned around, and watched as none other than Blue Team marching down the Pelican’s exterior ramp, followed by six – _six?_ – Spartans clad in much older-looking MJOLNIR armour.

“Thorne?”

“I know who they are.” The younger S-IV was practically _vibrating_ with excitement, and there was awe in his gentle brown eyes. “The Spartans with Blue Team? They’re Noble Team. Everyone thought they’d died on Reach, but I’d recognize those armour configurations anywhere.” He nodded towards the only one in the group with a visor tinted blue. “That Spartan especially. We Army Troopers called her _the hero of New Alexandria_. She saved a lot of lives.”

Palmer frowned, watching the two teams of Spartans striding closer and closer. Was it just her, or was their time on Requiem continually getting stranger the longer they were there? She’d have to bring it up with Lasky later. For now, though, she would have to settle on confronting these Spartans. She saw out of the corner of her eye, Fireteams Majestic and Etilka pausing in what they were doing – those who weren’t already looking – and glancing over towards the newcomers. They clustered around, chatting quietly to one another, but Palmer tuned them out.

“Spartan Palmer.” The Master Chief stopped short, and the two teams gathered behind him. “We’ll be taking command of this mission.”

That was unusual.

Protocol dictated that he state who gave such orders, and as of what time the mission command had changed hands. Something was off.

“On whose orders?” the S-IV demanded.

The only response was a one-word reply. “Ours.”

Murmurs from the Spartans behind her came more sharply. Some of them sounded almost alarmed. Palmer herself remained silent, contemplative, jaw clenched.

“I’d best listen to what he has to say. Wouldn’t want to offend the man that disobeyed his superior officer’s orders just to assist the motherfuckin’ Master Chief.” One of those gathered behind the Master Chief, a Spartan with a white grinning skull etched onto the visor of his EVA helmet, seemed to be _glaring_ at everyone who wasn’t on his team.

_How the hell do these guys know about that?_

That event had taken place almost _two years ago_. Unless the Chief had gone and _told them_ – which she doubted, because he hardly spoke to _anyone_ outside his own team – then they wouldn’t know. That was another thing that now didn’t sit right with Palmer.

“You know how to follow orders, don’t you?” A new voice spoke up, and the Spartan Commander glanced to its owner, a smaller-looking Spartan wearing what looked to be an older version of Spartan Harkness’ NOBLE-class MJOLNIR. Given the name, it was perhaps what the GEN2 kit was based off. “You should follow ours then. Mine specifically. You know how the ranking system works. Spartan-117 here told me that Commander is just a title for you. Well for me, Commander is a rank. And therefore, since you have no rank....”

_He outranks me. He even outranks the Master Chief’s second-in-command, Spartan-104. What the hell is going on?_

“We’ll follow your orders, Sir.” Spartan Perez spoke up, and the other IVs murmured agreement.

_Oh great, a Spartan mutiny. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em..._

“Fine.” Palmer spoke through gritted teeth. “We’ll follow your orders. _Commander_.”

“I’d watch my tone.” The Spartan that Thorne had referred to as _the hero of New Alexandria_ piped up defensively. A few seconds later, Spartan tags and ranks popped up on the HUD of Palmer’s SCOUT helmet. This stranger was a Lieutenant. Even _she_ outranked Spartan-104, and she sounded awfully _young_ to be a Spartan – in fact, she couldn’t possibly have been much older than Thorne. “We have twice the experience on our side than you do, Spartan Palmer. We know what we’re doing.” She sounded like she was _sneering_ , or at the very least, her tone had a superior air to it.

_Just who does this Noble Team think they are?_

* * *

“You’re seeing this, right Grant?” Madsen questioned over the COMMs. He’d been sighting down a Promethean Knight, only to wind up watching it get _annihilated_ through his SRS99-S5’s scope by Spartan-A266. He’d _blinked_ and the thing was gone; that was how quick the shot had been. He’d heard that Spartan-058 was legendary with her marksmanship skills, but he was quite sure that A266 would give her a run for her money.

“I’m definitely not blind,” Grant muttered, dealing with a trio of Promethean Soldiers. The bastards were tricky enough to shoot, what with the fact that they kept _teleporting_ everywhere, the moment she was able to get a shot in.

Thorne beside them almost _jumped_ when there came an inhuman roar, before the big mountain of a Spartan known as Chief Warrant Officer 052 _ploughed_ into a crowd of Grunts, knocking a few of them off their feet, and peppering others with enough bullets that they were torn to shreds. He wielded a heavy-looking machine gun, and there was a lot of heavy extra plating on his armour, and yet he moved like a freight train, mowing down anything that got in his way.

Noble Team and Blue Team worked together as one big, well-oiled fighting machine. Despite the fact that the Spartans of Noble had inferior armour compared to the GEN2 kits that Blue wore, they still kept up well enough. It was all an intense blur of motion, action and reaction, shooting and weaponless fighting. It was mesmerizing to watch, and more often than not, the S-IVs got distracted from a target, only to watch one of the newcomers take it out with _ease_. They all knew that Blue Team were the best fighters out of every Spartan aboard the _Infinity_ and then some, but Noble Team were absolutely _ruthless_. Fast, deadly, wordlessly signalling to one another and to Blue Team, calling out targets and lines of fire, warning one another of danger, giving one another support.

It was _intense_. Like an action movie that the IVs just couldn’t get enough of.

They watched as Lieutenant B312 – Thorne’s _hero of New Alexandria_ – sliced through one Elite’s armour with her Energy Sword like butter after breaking its shields, before spinning around to take out a Jackal that would have taken out her own shields, had she not been so _fast_. If it had been one of _them_ , their shields would have taken the hit, but this Spartan was too _quick_.

The ranks of their enemies were thinning out, and Fireteams Majestic and Etilka were doing hardly any of the heavy lifting.

“I’m sure I recognize at least two of them in particular but for the life of me I can’t remember _where from_. I know of B312 because I fought under her at Reach, but 052 and A259 look... familiar.” Harkness remarked quietly. Luckily, the two sets of teams were using different COMM frequencies at this point in time; he wasn’t _entirely_ sure he wanted to hold a conversation with these strange Spartans right now. In fact, none of them did – not even Palmer, and she wasn’t happy about the whole situation.

“Didn’t you mention to me once or twice how this big, green-armoured Spartan saved the lives of you and your older brother, way back when you were a kid?” Perez answered, sending a Grunt flying with a Ground Pound. “Said his name was... George or something?”

“Yeah...” Harkness unloaded a round into a Knight, reloaded, and fired again. “That’s right. That must be why 052 is so familiar, because he’s the Spartan who kicked that Hunter’s ass. Gotta be him – I mean, how many Spartan-IIs are that big?”

The Master Chief and his team looked rather _small_ compared to the Chief Warrant Officer, and that was saying something, because the Spartan-IIs were tall; powerfully built. But 052 stood over all of them by at least a head, and he was built like a mountain.

“Still, don’t know why their Commander is so familiar. Sure, his armour’s what mine’s based off – but... eh, I don’t know. Must be déjà vu.”

“Could chalk it up to that. You could also ask them later.” Spartan Hoya piped up, unloading buckshot into a Jackal’s chest. “They can’t be as scary as they look.”

Harkness drifted for a few moments, but was jerked into awareness from a shot whizzing past his head. He ducked and spun, only to find that the Promethean Soldier targeting him was nothing more than a fizzling pile of hardlight. He espied A259 staring at him, before a growl emanated from the helmet’s speakers; a warning. “Maintain focus at all times. If it weren’t for me, that Soldier would have taken your shields out.” The S-IV was left staring as the taller Spartan turned and moved to join his teammates elsewhere.

_He could have sworn black and blue that A259’s voice had sounded awfully familiar..._


	7. We're All Out In The Free; We're All Free

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Things! Excitement!

Aboard _The Athenian_ , outskirts of Monastir, New Harmony, unknown system, February 18th, 2559

“How are we gonna break it to ’em?” Artemis paced anxiously, one hand tapping nervously on her thigh while the other one was occupied with a hand weight. “I mean, telling them that the planet we all almost died on has been invaded _again_... it’s not gonna be easy. And then we have to somehow talk to the UNSC about this. That’s – that’s the main thing I’m worried about. How are we even gonna get in contact with the UNSC to tell them that there’s a Covie faction on Reach?”

“Answer is: we don’t.”

The Lieutenant stopped in surprise, looking across the gym to where Carter doing pushups on the floor. “My understanding is that we were going to tell them. That _was_ what we agreed on.”

“Yeah,” he grunted, “But I’ve thought of something better.”

“Alright, hit me.” Artemis resumed her pacing, her free hand now flexing at her side. “Tell me, Commander, just _what_ is a better idea than straight-up telling the UNSC what’s happening on the surface of Reach, a planet long ago lost to the Covenant and glassed to shit?”

“We get the UNSC on side.”

Again, Artemis stopped in her tracks, and glanced over to her teammate. What the hell was he contemplating? That was crazy. They were _hiding_ from the UNSC; how could they get them on side when they weren’t in any UNSC-held areas? When they were supposed to be _dead_? She couldn’t see any sense in the idea.

“Hear me out.” He stood up, stretching his arms above his head while he talked. “We go down to Requiem – the Forerunner planet that the Master Chief mentioned was being overrun by Storm Covenant and Promethean constructs, the last time he was there with Blue Team – and we help the UNSC out of their stalemate. We know that Captain Lasky is a good man. He’s disobeyed orders once. What’s not to say he’ll do it again? Once we have him on side, it shouldn’t take long to convince the UNSC brass of the idea of heading to Reach with a battlegroup or three. Scout out what the hell’s going on down there, and get rid of the bad guys. If the brass don’t agree, it doesn’t matter, because we have the captain of the UNSC’s biggest and best warship on our side. One ship, plus her contingent of _Strident_ heavy frigates, should easily be enough to get rid of... whatever the hell those ex-Covies were.”

That made sense.

Artemis squinted at her teammate in confusion, wondering if he was okay. For the past couple of weeks he’d been awfully distracted, spaced out and not 100% there, and now he was back to his old self. Thinking, planning, preparing for what lay ahead. She knew she’d have to confront him on it sooner or later; she just had to pick the right moment. Maybe once this particular line of conversation was over...

A new thought struck her.

“What if Captain Lasky doesn’t agree, or doesn’t believe us despite the hard evidence we have?” she questioned.

Carter lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Then we go on our own. There’s ten Spartans now – five of our number are IIs, and the other five are IIIs. I think that should be enough of a strike force to get rid of those aliens. If not, we’ll scout them out and live to fight another day. Go back later with more munitions, more vehicles, more purpose. We’ve fought for our lives to defend Reach before, and lost. This time, we won’t lose. We’re better than we were back then. Besides, it’s nothing we haven’t done before. Just a different scale and with a new enemy to fight.”

Artemis couldn’t argue with him. He’d made a valid point – a few of them, in fact – and his line of thinking was sound. In fact, she was more than certain that she had nothing else to add to the conversation. She gave him a gesture that was half-shrug, half-nod; not flippant, just acceptance in a casual manner. After all, what other options _were_ there? They couldn’t just _leave_ the planet and the ex-Covies on it alive. Some ten-odd years from now, the UNSC would send out an exploration and research team, to determine if the planet was worth re-terraforming. And it wouldn’t work if there were aliens there. On top of that... those aliens _needed_ to be stopped. If they managed to discover the wreckage of that vessel underneath SWORD... there was no telling _what_ they could do.

That ship could have belonged to the Forerunners, and given the other Forerunner artefacts that both humanity and the Covenant remnant factions had found so far... it was likely something that had immense power. Something that could be used to destroy humanity while it got back on its feet.

Silence fell between the pair. Not unwanted silence; it was a comfortable silence, like a warm blanket being draped upon one’s shoulders.

Artemis set the hand weight down and settled upon doing some crunches on the floor. Her eyes tracked Carter as he moved across the room, to use the weightlifting set. She could have spotted for him, but what was the point? More often than not, when the Spartans spotted for one another, it was only to hold conversation when the rest of the gym was crowded. But it was quiet, and there was no use watching out for him, because he’d never drop the bar bell. Benefits of augmentations – they were quick enough in eye, mind, and hand to catch the weights should one end slip.

 _You_ want _to have a conversation with him, you idiot!_

_Yeah, but what’s so wrong about having one from halfway across the room? Not like anyone else is here._

_That’s not manners, especially not with your superior officer._

_He’s a_ friend _._

_No he’s not._

_The hell are you on about? He’s_ both _. And you can’t possibly mean that he’s neither, because that wouldn’t make any sense. After all, you-_

She released a hiss of air from between clenched teeth, and she saw Carter’s eyes flicking a glance to her, concern flashing in those orbs of electric blue, before flicking back to look at the ceiling.

Pulling herself into a sitting position, the Spartan tangled her fingers into her hair, frustrated. Her hands flexed against her skull, before she _whooshed_ a sigh, getting to her feet and trotting over to one of the treadmills alongside the weightlifting set, resting an elbow on the control panel. “Can we... talk?”

“Sure, though I thought we already were.” The bar bell clunked as it set back into place, before Carter lifted it high above his head. “About what?”

Her fingers drummed on the control panel of the treadmill. “You’ve been... how do I say this without sounding mean?...You’ve been different these past couple of weeks. Spaced out and not really all... _there_. And now you’re back to your old self, completely out of the blue. What’s going on?”

This time, the bar bell was dropped so fast that it thunked loud enough to startle Artemis, and she jerked, stepping forward off the treadmill. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw a _look_ in Carter’s eyes, as he swung to sit upright and face her head on. Something was different about him. She didn’t just _see_ it; she _felt_ it, too. It sent a shiver down her spine.

_What the hell is going on with you? You’ve changed so much... I know we’ve all changed but these past two weeks you’ve changed beyond that..._

“Yeah. I made a mistake.” he breathed quietly.

Without warning, he stood close before her– closer than he’d ever had before, aside from when they hugged. And the next thing she knew, his lips were pressed against hers. There was a desperation there; she felt it coursing from him, straight to her. There was confusion, hesitation, _determination_ , and something strangely along the lines of love – but of a different kind.

It _felt so strange_ , but at the same time, Artemis wasn’t resisting. It also felt _nice_. Her body tingled; then went warm, like she’d been sitting near a toasty fire. She sighed and melted against him, like ice melting in a wild spring river. She felt his arms around her; steady and warm and sure. She felt his heartbeat beneath her finger tips, from where one hand was pressed against his chest; reminding her she was alive. She was lost in the blue of his eyes; drowning in them; in him. It was all new, different... it felt _surreal_.

Unfortunately, the moment he parted from her, the spell broke. The magic was there, yes – would be for a long time, in fact. But the feeling of being locked in such a sensation was gone.

“...How was that a mistake?” she questioned, voice soft.

“You make me feel... _you make me feel_ ,” he said quietly, fiercely, “And I don’t like it. I want it to stop. Now.”

“You really don’t get it, do you?” she said, almost laughing, “You’re not the only one who doesn’t feel... well... the same as you used to. Believe me, for the longest time I thought that you were one of my best friends and now.... I’m just confused.” Artemis reached up and gently rubbed a thumb over his cheekbone, a corner of her mouth twitching into a smile when he nuzzled into the touch. “It’s okay to be conflicted, you know. For people like you and I, it’s completely normal.”

One dark eyebrow raised in inquiry. “Is it?”

This time, she did laugh. “ _Yes_. Of course it is. Besides, it’s less scary when there are two of us to go through it... together.” Her eyes softened. “Stay with me. Forever and a day; until eternity; I don’t care just _stay, with me_.” she whispered. “Stay with me, Carter Harkness.”

“Okay, Artemis Fox. I promise.” His voice was warm, and rumbled through his chest.

Familiar, comforting. Like _home_.

Artemis closed her eyes again and buried her face into the crook of his shoulder and neck, sighing in content. Yes, this... this was bliss. It was peace. It was _good_.

* * *

In a Pelican in the atmosphere of Requiem, Epoloch system, February 22nd, 2559

“Spartans.” Carter addressed the armoured warriors assembled before him. “Everyone ready?”

Nineteen voices gave their assent. _Nineteen_. It was a lot. They were all veterans in one way or another, but he’d never commanded _nineteen_ at once. It was going to a hell of an effort. He could do this, though. He was a born leader, and he hadn’t been awarded the rank of Commander for _nothing_. He was damn good at his job, and this time would be no exception. He would not let them down; he would show these Spartan-IVs just what he and his team were made of.

He gave them a nod, thumping his chest. Noble Team and Blue Team responded in kind; the Spartan-IVs just looked among one another, confused. He thumped the door control, watching the loading ramp swing down. The sky rushed past, far below his feet, and he double-checked that everyone was on the same COMM channel before leaping out.

“Oh, nice song choice,” one of the S-IVs commented, as jaunty music rang out over TEAMCOM.

“My idea.” Emile leapt out of the Pelican in an entirely too casual manner, chuckling with glee. “Nothin’s as good as doing an orbital drop to _Mr Blue Sky_.”

“Nerd,” Artemis teased, flinging herself out after giving Jorge a shove. Even now, he didn’t particularly enjoy orbital drops. Then again, it was due to his dislike of heights and lack of control when he fell from the sky. She couldn’t blame him. They all had their own quirks and fears; they had to learn to adjust to them and control them – or at the least, rein them in. And if they couldn’t do it alone, there was always someone else there to have their back and help them out.

It was chaotic, on the ground. Noble Team had never seen so many Storm Covenant on the ground at once, and especially not paired up with the strange, mechanical constructs they’d come to learn were called “Prometheans”. They were creepy things, the Prometheans; all hardlight bonds and tough battle armour, problematic and dangerous. Apparently they’d been created by the Forerunners to defend against the Flood; after that, some had been left here to defend the planet while the Forerunner known as the Didact had been sleeping in a cryptum. And now that the Forerunner was gone, the Prometheans were effectively rogue, serving no purpose except to annihilate humanity – and more often than not they were doing a better job than Jul’s Covenant.

And one variant of the Prometheans in particular – Soldiers, they were called – were just a pain in the ass. They weren’t very efficient marksmen compared to the bigger, deadlier Promethean Knights, but the Soldiers knew how to teleport. And that was what they did – teleported all over the shop, dancing tauntingly in and out of the line of fire in a manner that was nothing but frustrating. Even the Spartan-IVs who had dealt with the Prometheans for a lot longer seemed to be struggling with the Soldiers. Every now and then a complaint would rise up out of their ranks – at least, until they switched COMM channels, as evidenced when Emile thanked the Spartan called Hoya for getting rid of a Soldier while he was dealing with a Knight, only to get a wordless nod in response.

The S-IVs had been courteous and responsive up until that point; Carter wondered if perhaps the younger soldiers had simply grown wary of the more experienced Spartans. Either that, or they just didn’t want to talk to the IIs and IIIs, and thus had changed COMM frequencies. He growled in frustration and made a gesture at their leader, Spartan Palmer. “Tell your Spartans to switch frequencies to ours, or switch their COMMs back on.”

“No can do; they don’t want to deal with you guys at the moment,” came the clipped reply, the SCOUT-armoured Spartan moving to headshot a Crawler; she then downed a Watcher and added, “They’ll switch back when they’ve sorted things out amongst themselves. Your arrival was unexpected and I think they don’t want their limelight being stolen.”

He knew there was no sense arguing with these Spartans – not when they were in the middle of a firefight. Afterwards, though, he’d have a word or seven to say to them. They were good soldiers, yes, but they were...wilful. Loud and showy and only wanting to follow their own orders. It was problematic; whoever had trained them hadn’t trained them hard enough, or they were simply allowed too much free will.

“You’re kidding, right? Jun, c’mon man, I thought you picked better than this!” Emile lamented, punting a Crawler sideways before putting buckshot through its head. “You _are_ the recruiter for the SPARTAN-IV program, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but I’m not the one that trains them.” the Slav grumbled, watching as a Watcher’s body crumpled to the ground, followed by a second and a third. “I think the UNSC just gives them too much free rein to do as they please.”

“You’re not the only one who’s thinking that.” Carter lamented. “I wish they’d just _do as they’re told_. At least _we_ know how the chain of command works.”

“Oh, they know how it works alright. They just prefer to ignore it because there’s no chain of command in the Spartan Branch.” Jun returned, sighting down a Knight. “I’m going to have to speak to Musa about that.”

* * *

Something was wrong. Something was _really_ wrong.

They’d split up after the first firefight against the Storm and Prometheans, searching for any stragglers. They couldn’t let a single one survive; upon finding only one escaped Zealot, the Spartans began to regroup. Only they were one short.

Artemis hadn’t returned.

Cold dread settled into Carter’s gut as he scaled a rock slide and skidded down the other side, searching. His motion tracker showed no movement, and yet, she could be still, tracking down a target. Something told him it wasn’t that simple.

He’d been searching for fifteen minutes now to no avail, calling, scanning, with despair clawing at his chest. There had been not one sign, save for a bootprint in a mud puddle, pointing away from where they’d originally landed. Since then, nothing.

“Artemis.”

Silence was the only thing that greeted him.

_Come on; come on, where are you..._

A last, despairing call.

“ _Artemis!_ ”

There was a rasping cry of pain, from somewhere close.

Heart pounding in his chest, he skidded down a low rise, and stopped, horror freezing him and turning his veins to ice. She was there, on the ground, motionless, her helmet knocked aside. There was a pool of blood beneath her...

_No... it can’t be. This isn’t real._

“Artemis?” A questioning plea. He stepped forward, hesitant; when he saw her struggling to rise, he rushed to her side, crouching down beside her. Her skin was so _ashen_. Her eyes were glazed, and the look in them was just _wrong_. “Istenem, Artemis....” He borrowed one of her and Jorge’s more common Hungarian exclamations. _Dear me_.

For a moment, when her eyelids fluttered closed, his heart _jerked_ in his chest.

_I’m too late... aren’t I?_

“Carter...” Her words were no more than a hoarse whisper, breathy at best. “Took a hardlight blade right through the gut... on top of the other injuries... I’m sorry.”

“No...” He reached a hand towards her, only to find that it was shaking. _Both_ his hands were shaking. Why were his hands shaking? He wished he wasn’t wearing the damn armour gauntlets. He wished that he could press his fingertips to her face and _feel_ the skin. He wished he knew how he felt about her. He wished this wasn’t happening. He wished...

_No use wishing for things that are never going to happen._

“No, that’s not...” He shook his head in disbelief. “You’ll be okay. You’ve gotta be okay.”

Artemis coughed, and blood speckled her lips. “Except I’m not.”

He couldn’t deny the truth that was right in front of him. He didn’t _want_ to believe it. Didn’t want it to be happening. He knew there was nothing he could do to prevent it. But he was so _desperate_. He couldn’t lose another member of his team – his _family_. Not after Thom. After Thom, they’d all vowed “no more”. And yet here was one of their own, dying.

Briefly, he allowed his head to hang, and one hand curled into a fist, while the other remained hovering halfway, reaching out to her.

He sensed movement and looked up again, watching as her hand gripped his wrist. “I’m not gonna be okay. Biofoam’s not gonna hold me together long enough, and...” She coughed again, blood dribbling down her chin. He could hear the death rattle in her lungs.

 _Why aren’t you calling for help? A Pelican extraction. We can get her back to_ The Athenian _and take her straight to the medbay..._

_Who are you kidding? She’s already gone. She’s still here because she’s clinging to a thread of life. Surgery isn’t going to save her now._

Further movement caught his eye, and he saw a flash of silver, before she pressed something into his palm and closed his fist around it. He knew at once that it was her dogtags, and he shook his head, lifting his helmet off and chucking it onto the ground.

“No... No, I can’t take these...” He couldn’t give them to anyone else, either, because she’d given them to _him_. They were _his_ keepsake. Yes, he and Kat had given Thom’s tags to her, but that had been different. She was giving them specifically to _him_ ; Thom had just dropped his tags beside the teammate nearest to him, which just so happened to be Kat. “Artemis, please...” His voice became choked, and his eyes watered, obscuring his vision. “You have to get up...”

“I -...” A wheezing cough. “Well, I’ll try.” She didn’t like things getting her down for long. “I don’t think the blade hit anything vital but... If we don’t get back to _The Athenian_ in time...”

She let the sentence hang in the air, ominous.

“Don’t need to tell me.” He helped her to her feet, one hand going out to steady her. “Come on. We’ll be home free. Let’s grab your helmet and mine and we’ll get out of here.”

Artemis tilted her head, lips twisted in a fraction of a wry grin. “Oly Oly Oxen Free, right Carter?” Without warning, her expression shifted to one of _pain_ , intense pain and surprise, and the Commander’s eyes flicked up to see a Promethean Knight halfway out of a translocation portal, its hardlight blade going _right through the Lieutenant’s armour, istenem, how could I have not seen this, no, Artemis please, you can’t leave me..._

“ _No_!” he barked out, pain and fear in his voice. So much pain and fear... he couldn’t lose her...

The Knight made an eerie noise that sounded almost like it was _laughing_ , and it vanished into the portal, air returning to normal once it closed.

“No... Artemis please... don’t... don’t go... stay with me, _please_... stay with me...” Carter clutched at her as her knees buckled, cradling her close. “Stay with me... stay with me Artemis...” One shaking hand stroked the back of her head, while his other kept her in place. He knew it was too late; knew there was nothing he could do. But his mind had shut down to that; he wasn’t accepting it. She wasn’t dead; no, she was fine. She was fine. She’d be okay. “Artemis, Artemis, Artemis...” He said her name over and over, whispering it, voice quavering and pleading.

He didn’t want to lose her.

He felt her body go slack, and that was the moment he went completely numb. He felt nothing, saw nothing, heard nothing; just stood there, holding her limp form in his arms, hand still shaking as it stroked the back of her head. She was gone.

_We’re all out in the free. We’re all free._

* * *

Grief was the only thing Carter knew.

It was wrapped around him, dragging him down, drowning him, crushing him under its weight. He didn’t know how long he stood there, clutching at Artemis’ broken body, wishing for things to go back to the way they were. Wishing that it wasn’t true. That she wasn’t dead; that her body wasn’t growing colder by the minute. And yet he couldn’t deny it any longer.

She was gone, and there was nothing he could do.

He was so numb to everything that he wasn’t aware of a translocation portal opening up, taking Artemis with it. His body was frozen, locked in place, staring blankly at spot so many klicks away. Empty. Dead inside. Something inside him had broken; something irreplaceable. Something that could never be fixed. Something that he didn’t think he would ever be able to understand.

He could have sworn his ears were ringing, and when it cleared, he heard Kat talking to him. His vision blurred, then cleared, and he blinked a few times.

“...What?”

_The hell..._

Was that his voice? Gone was the ringing, firm command; gone was the light, warm rumble. It was hollow; as hollow as his chest. There was no life to it.

“I said, are you alright? You look like you’ve seen –” He wondered why she’d stopped. Then he heard her cry of dismay, and watched dumbly as the smaller Spartan scooped up Artemis’ helmet. “Carter, what _happened_? Where’s Artemis?”

“She’s... _istenem_ , Kat, she’s _gone_.” His voice cracked on the word, but somehow – _somehow_ – he managed to hold himself together.

“Gone? Gone how-” Kat stopped herself again and shook her head. She had seen his face; filled in the gaps for herself. Somehow she, too, held herself together; grabbed his helmet and lead him back to the awaiting Pelican. The Spartan-IVs were not there, he dimly noted; he had vaguely noted their sister Pelican was already halfway into the atmosphere.

“What’s going on?” Emile looked from one Spartan to the other in confusion, narrowing his eyes as he watched the helmets clattering to the floor. “What am I missing?”

“The mission was a failure.” Carter found himself snarling. _Why had he gotten so aggressive out of the blue? What was_ wrong _with him?_ He felt multiple pairs of eyes on him, and wished he could just sink into the floor, or vanish into a pile of hardlight like the Prometheans did.

“Commander, where’s Artemis?” Jorge rumbled in question. He sounded more confused than angry, head canted to one side, one hand resting on the barrel of his machine gun.

“Artemis is _dead_.”

Silence filled the Pelican. The dropship’s tail slammed shut and it rose into the air, but nobody paid any attention. Numbness descended over them all. That _couldn’t_ be true. It just didn’t make sense to any of them. One of their own couldn’t be _dead_.

“ _NO_!!” thundered Jorge, a rare bout of rage flashing in his hazel eyes. “I’ll kill whatever monster did this to her! WHERE IS IT! LEMME AT IT!”

“It’s gone,” Carter said wearily, head hung low.

Jorge roared, in a mixture of anguish and rage, and one arm flew out to punch the Pelican - and possibly put a dent in it.

“Hey, hey, whoa!” Fred leapt into action first, yanking on the bigger Spartan’s arm, but even with his full strength it wasn’t enough to pull him away from the walls of the Pelican. “A239, A266, help me out here.”

The two Warrant Officers immediately rushed to his aid, pulling on Jorge’s torso, dragging him back to the centre of the aisle. They kept a tight grip on him, even when he didn’t fight, instead sagging to the ground, head hung low.

“Some-...Somebody tell me this ain’t really happening. Someone tell me this ain’t... real.” Jorge stumbled over his words.

Kat, having seen the blood on Carter’s gauntlets and chestplate, and knowing it wasn’t his, shook her head. “It’s true.” She hadn’t wanted to believe it, either, but the empty look on his face told her _everything_. He’d been there with her as she’d died, and there had been nothing he could do to save her; he had been too late.

Jorge _keened_ , feeling nothing but immense pain and loss. His sister... the lone wolf... _gone_ , just like that. It didn’t add up to the big man. It _couldn’t_ be true. But Carter had never lied to them. And he could see that the Commander was shattered. It was obvious to them all. Anyone who couldn’t see how _broken_ the poor man looked was oblivious to basic human emotion. Even Spartans as emotionally stunted as Blue Team were able to see that _something_ terrible had happened.

Emile just felt sick, staring numbly at his kukri knife, with the blade resting against the armour plating of his thigh. “Didn't think it’d be her dyin’ before any of us...”

“ _Shut up_ ,” Jun snapped, a growl rising from his throat. “Don’t even talk about it. Just don’t.”

The assault specialist wanted so badly to retaliate, but he didn’t find it within him to do so. He just... couldn’t process anything anymore. He mumbled out a _sorry_ and stared at his kukri, gaze becoming blank. Nothing mattered anymore; he didn’t care about a damn thing.

It was a dark time for them all.


	8. Emotions Are Complicated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So much emotions! Previous questions are answered, while further questions are raised...
> 
> Also, flashbacks are in italics, and they shift around a lot, which is why there's a strange break in the middle every now and then

Aboard UNSC _Infinity_ , in orbit above Forerunner Shield World Requiem, Epoloch system, February 23rd, 2559

Captain Lasky looked up from reading Palmer’s after action report when the doors to the bridge hissed, before sliding apart. The Master Chief strode in and stood at attention, snapping off a salute only when the Captain gave the Spartan his full attention. Lasky frowned, noting that the man’s hands were shaking. It wasn’t much, but enough to warrant concern. Something had happened yesterday; something that had shaken the stoic Spartan right to his core.

“Master Chief. Something you need?”

“Sir.” The Spartan shifted and stood at parade rest, hands clasped behind his back. He fell silent, almost as if he were waiting for the Captain to speak first.

Something was wrong. Something had happened that had _hurt_ more deeply than the loss of Cortana. Because after he’d lost Cortana, the Chief was still trying to soldier on; putting on a brave face. But this time it was different. Every now and then the Spartan would twitch, almost as though he were _shaking_ underneath all of that armour.

When silence had reigned for a solid five minutes, Lasky decided to try something that he hoped would help. “Come with me, Chief.” He left the bridge, and felt just as much as heard the Spartan trailing after him. Once he reached his ready room and stepped inside, he stopped, addressing Roland. “I want all monitors to this room offline. And lock the door – I don’t want anybody making their way in uninvited.”

“Aye aye,” the AI gave a salute, before his hologram winked off.

The Captain sighed wearily, and turned to the Master Chief, who was looking like he didn’t know what to do with himself. Like he was questioning why he’d come to Lasky in the first place. “Chief, what happened? You’re acting like you’ve lost someone close to you.”

“It’s... complicated.” The Spartan released a weary sigh of his own, before lifting his helmet up and off his head, letting it drop to the ground. His face was ghostly pale, and oddly rugged-looking; he also looked _extremely_ exhausted, and his sharp eyes reflected sadness. He made to rub the bridge of his nose, but stopped himself, realizing that he’d likely only break it since he was still in his armour. He then leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor in a sitting position. “I lost my sister yesterday.” His voice was soft, ragged; full of grief.

“Chief, I’m so sorry.” Tom knew what that was like. He’d had an older brother who he’d loved very dearly, and when Cadmon died, he felt like he no longer knew how to function. He wasn’t even _aware_ of the Chief even _having_ a sibling aside from those who were like his family in Blue Team, but then, he’d seen the other Spartan-IIs returning with his own eyes. So this was a _real_ sibling; a blood relative. The other reason he was able to judge that was due to the fact that the Chief seemed somehow... _sadder_... than he had been after Cortana had died. And it was a different kind of sadness, too. That was the very same sadness that he himself had felt when he’d lost his squadmates at Corbulo. _This_ sadness was different. He wasn’t entirely sure how he could tell; he just... knew that it was.

“The worst part was, I barely even knew her. I’d been in her company since... December last year?” the Spartan shook his head. “But I didn’t even know she was my sister until just a week ago. I had a sister for a week and now she’s just... _gone_.” He closed his eyes and swallowed. “She was only _twenty-six_ , and she was born when I was already on active duty for a few years. All this time and I never even knew... She was a damn good kid and one hell of a Spartan. I didn’t even get to know her properly. She didn’t deserve to get her life _ripped away from her_ after all that ONI had done to her.”

 _What the hell would the Office of Naval Intelligence have to do with one Spartan alone? Weren’t all of the original Spartans under ONI’s watchful eye? Did they even_ know _that this Spartan was the Chief’s sister? They must have, surely. They would have had_ something _to do with it, if not_ everything _. Aw hell, what if they’re the reason for her existence in the first place? It would make sense to why the Chief’s so beaten up over this. Because he wanted to protect her and now he can’t and he doesn’t know what to do with himself anymore._

_Poor bastard._

Lasky moved and sat beside the Chief, and even though he was quite sure the Spartan wouldn’t feel it, he put a hand on one armoured shoulder. At least the show of support would help. “That must be hell, Chief. I’m sorry, I really am. If you just want to talk or... cry... or whatever you Spartans do to get emotions out... I’m here as a friend. I might be your superior officer, but whoever said you can’t be friends with a superior officer and one who’s the captain of a warship is a daft idiot.”

There was a moment’s silence; then a quiet, “Thankyou, Sir.”

Lasky shook his head, half his mouth twitching into an amused smile. Even under emotional duress, the Spartan still had impeccable manners. It would have been funny, if not the situation currently so _tragic_. “Please, we don’t need the formalities. You saved my life on Corbulo – didn’t want to leave myself and Hastati behind, in fact – and I owe you one. Just call me Tom. Makes things a bit more friendly.”

“Tom. Right.”

* * *

“You are troubled.”

Kat glanced up at the sound of the deep, slightly raspy, and definitely _alien_ voice, and then frowned upon spotting a hinge-head sporting the crimson and ivory armour of the _Swords of Sanghelios_. She’d never trusted the creatures, even the ones that had allied themselves with humanity. She just couldn’t bring herself to trust the very species that had almost wiped the human race out. Yes, it had been the Covenant as a whole, but many Spartan deaths had been attributed to the hinge-heads in particular, for Spartans and Elites were rather well-matched. So sue her for turning a cold shoulder to _this_ one as it seated itself beside her – thankfully, not too close for comfort.

“You are in mourning.”

 _That_ grabbed her attention. Her head whipped around so fast she swore she would have given herself whiplash had she not been augmented, and she scowled at the squid-head. This close, she could see that its – _his?_ She wasn’t so sure it deserved to be called anything other than _it_ even though its voice sounded masculine – eyes were green, and its four jaws were filled with rows of white, sharp teeth. Her own azure eyes narrowed at the creature, lip curling downwards into a sneer. “What would _you_ know about mourning?”

A chuffing sound emanated from the back of its throat. “You may find it hard to digest, but humans and Sangheili are not so very different in some ways. In other ways, we are very different. You are.... as your kind says, “easy to read in the face”.”

“You mean you can read my facial expression with ease?” the Spartan muttered, though she didn’t relax. She couldn’t bring herself to.

“Yes. That is what I meant.” It pulled its mandibles close to its face, looking oddly thoughtful, before speaking again. “I had a family once. We lived in one of many keeps on Sanghelios, just as many of you humans live in your cities on planets such as Earth. At the dawn of the Great Schism, a number of Brutes came to Sanghelios, looking to raid supplies and perhaps make a killing of our people as they saw fit.” The squid-lip huffed, green eyes flashing. “My two sons were training as swordsmen, and my wife was no slouch either, and yet who were they against an entire pack of Brutes? The vile beasts _murdered_ my family in cold blood, and laughed as they desecrated the corpses. So now you know, Spartan, that I indeed know about mourning.”

That was something out of the blue. Kat frowned again, though it was less anger this time, and more confusion. “Why are you telling me this? How would you think that it could help me? You don’t know the kind of grief I’m dealing with. And you couldn’t understand what I have been through.”

The Sangheili gave a _clack_ of his mandibles. “Indeed. I do not and cannot understand. The fact of the matter here is, I can relate to what you are going through. Not all the pain I hold within is the pain of watching my fellow warriors die beside me in battle. As I said, my species and yours are not so different after all. It is... it is a peace offering, I suppose. I _want_ our kinds to get along. That, and the fact that it displeases me to see warriors in pain. It is an unpleasant thing, and the warriors do not deserve such to go through so much discomfort when they dedicate their lives to fighting for what they think is right.”

Kat remained silent as she analysed the situation, looking at it from different angles. His words were honest, and he was not lying to her – well, at least, it didn’t _look_ like he was. Split-lips and humans had different facial features, after all. And yet, she still got the feeling that he was not to be trusted. Maybe she was just biased; maybe she needed to learn how to be more open. Either way, this was an olive branch, and she realized that she’d better take it – before the small part of her brain telling her that this was all fake took over and she shunned the offer.

“What would you even suggest that I do? Talking to therapists... doesn’t sit well with me.” she admitted, finally.

“Find a warrior that can understand and relate. That is what I suggest. I would offer more but I can see that you are wary, and besides, ways of helping warriors deal with emotions is different among my people than yours. You would likely not... be interested... in such methods.” the split-lip replied.

Kat paused, and then, “I suppose I should thank you, huh?”

There was a noise like laughter, and the Sangheili rose to leave. “It is customary among your kind, is it not?”

“Yeah.” Kat’s mouth twisted into a wry smirk. “Thanks. I guess. I’ll think about what you said."

* * *

_"You alright?”_

_She glanced up at him, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “Sure. Guess I’m just thinking too much. Always been one of my biggest downfalls.”_

_He seated himself beside her, following her gaze to where she was staring up at the stars. It was a nice night, even with the sky looking like it was on fire in the direction of New Alexandria. Warm and almost peaceful; made one forget they were even at war in the first place. “What are you thinking about, if you don’t mind my asking?”_

_“Oh, not much, really.” The Lieutenant spared him a glance, before heaving a sigh. “I just miss Jorge.”_

_“Yeah, me too.”_

_… … …_

_“Can’t sleep? Me either.” She turned from where she’d been staring out the window, giving him a wonky smile. The stars. She was always staring at the stars. He wondered why; no Spartan ever really liked being in space, because in space, the Covenant had the advantage. Then again, the Covenant didn’t really exist anymore. There were a few factions here and there, but they were scattered, and they no longer had the advantage if a space battle occurred._

_Maybe she was making use of the fact that the stars were safer than they used to be, and taking the time to actually_ enjoy _them._

_“I guess I just... I’ve been worrying a lot,” he admitted after some silence. They stood shoulder-to-shoulder, watching the twinkling stars drift by as the frigate moved through space._

_“About what?” She spared him a glance, eyebrows crinkling together with worry. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I’m here.”_

_When would things change? When would he learn how to open up to his team? He didn’t know._

_“Lots of stuff. Everything and nothing at once. I don’t know exactly one thing, if I’m being honest. I’m not really used to... being out of combat for so long.”_

_This time she_ did _smile, her eyes glowing and reflecting the starlight. “Bit jarring, isn’t it?”_

__“Yeah, you could say that,” he answered._ _

… … …

_“Carter? What’s wrong?” She sat beside him, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Talk to me; what’s going on?”_

_“I – I miss my family. I miss my home.” He heaved a shaky breath. “I miss my_ brother _. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to – It’s just that I –”_

 _“It’s okay. You can cry about your home if you want to; there’s no shame in that. The amount of times I cry over Reach is... a lot, let’s just say. I’m here for you. Alright?” One of her hands gently stroked the side of his head. “No shame in crying over your home. Home is home, y’know? Even if it changes. Even if it shifts. All your previous homes will still feel like_ home _to you even if your current home is somewhere lightyears away, and even if you feel more attached to your new home than your old one.”_

 _He said nothing; just leaned into her and wept silently, for what must have been an hour. She stayed with him that whole time; quiet, comforting, solid and real and_ there _._

… … …

_“Hmmm. We don’t have a mission today, do we?”_

_“No. Why do you ask?” He glanced across the room at her, propping himself up on an elbow._

_“No real reason. Just feel lazy I guess.” She shifted and rolled out of bed, landing on the floor with a thud. “Aw nuts.”_

_“Would you two shut it? Some of us are trying to sleep.” grumbled Emile, tossing his pillow at Artemis and hitting her in the head before turning over to face the wall._

_The Lieutenant just hissed in laughter and rolled her eyes. “He’s such an ass.” she murmured, pulling herself into an upright position. “Hm, I think I’ll keep his pillow. Least until he realizes that it’s gone.”_

_He chuckled quietly. “You’re so_ mean _.”_

_“Yeah, I know.”_

… … …

“Dammit.”

He hadn’t wanted his night to go like this, but then, what else had been expecting? He might have been exhausted emotionally, but that didn’t mean he was going to sleep like a rock. Carter knew that was impossible for a good few nights to come. If not weeks. Thom’s death years ago had shaken him up enough and left it hard for him to sleep, but this was _Artemis_. It was different.

Heaving a sigh, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and pushed himself to his feet, deciding to take a walk along the halls of the _Infinity’s_ S Deck. It wouldn’t clear his head much, but at least it might... well. He wasn’t really sure anymore. Taking a walk along a ship’s halls _used to_ help him when he couldn’t sleep, but this was different.

He rubbed the back of his neck and almost bumped into the door to his temporarily assigned quarters when it slid open. The lights were dimmed in the hallway; no wonder he couldn’t see. It was the _Infinity’s_ night cycle; he guessed, and a lot of Spartans had gone to bed, thus the Smart AI Roland deciding the need to adjust lighting. As his eyes were acclimatizing to the change in brightness – his room had been wholly dark save for faint starlight – he didn’t notice another figure wandering towards him.

Not until he walked _right into them_ , winding up with his forehead now very sore. He staggered back a step, stunned and confused and now very much awake and shaken out of his thoughts. “Shit, sorry, wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Nah, it’s my fault; I wasn’t really paying attention to my surroundings. _Ah_ – sorry Commander, didn’t recognize you for a moment there.” The other was definitely a Spartan – nobody else could have that kind of height and build, and nobody else really wandered S Deck. Funnily enough, it sounded like one of the S-IVs from Fireteam Etilka, though Carter couldn’t place the name.

When his vision finally cleared, he frowned in confusion. For a second, he _swore_ he was looking into a mirror – a mirror of _his younger self_. Same electric blue eyes, same dark, almost jet black hair – only the styling was longer, different – and same tan skin. Only thing was, _this_ lookalike was lacking scars, and lacking the look in his eyes that showed he’d been through the kind of hell that the original Spartans had been through. ...He wasn’t seeing double, was he?

“What the hell...?” he murmured in confusion, “You’re not... – am I hallucinating?”

“I’m starting to wonder the same thing, 259.” His lookalike frowned as well. “You look a hell of a lot like me, and you sound like someone from my home planet; like a Biko native.”

 _Biko. That’s_ my _home planet. But – No, it can’t be. Could it?_

Never hurt to ask, at any rate.

“Conall?”

“ _Carter_?!”

The bigger Spartan’s throat tightened with emotion, and he did not hesitate to embrace his younger brother. “What the hell... I thought you’d _died_ , Conall!” he breathed, closing his eyes.

“I’d learned you were alive some years ago – and by that I mean I learned you’d died on Reach when it fell back in ’52.” Conall exclaimed quietly. “I missed you, you stinky butt.”

Carter choked out a noise that might have been laughter, or it might have been a sob – he couldn’t tell which, and at this point, he didn’t care. “I missed you too, you jerk.”

 


End file.
